


New York, Destiny, and The Great Unknown

by oncethrown



Series: Beautiful Walking Out The Door [2]
Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: Cory's Myriad Sexual Hang-Ups, Crazy Eric Nonsense, Exploring Sexuality Without Jumping Directly to Butt Stuff, F/M, Feeny Saves the Day With Advice, Gen, Home for Christmas (And Disaster), I Wrote This When I Was So Young You Guys, M/M, Topanga Regains Her Independence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 66,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7516789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncethrown/pseuds/oncethrown





	1. Not To Worry

"And you have no idea what to get him for Christmas?" Margot asked Shawn as she blew on her coffee to cool it down. They were taking their break inside today. Winter had hit New York City with a vengeance and was dark and freezing outside, with a wind that whipped stinging snow into eyes.

Also both of them were trying to quit smoking. Margot was sick of, as she put it, "paying a CEO with a bathtub bigger than my apartment nearly 5 bucks a pack so that I commit slow… delicious…soothing…suicide". Shawn was trying to quit because Cory hated it and had begun passive aggressively leaving hints. A couple weeks ago Cory had planted full page anti-smoking ads he ripped out of magazines all over the apartment. Shawn had found a picture of a diseased lung wrapped around his shampoo bottle. Tucked under a Tupperware in the fridge, he'd found a picture of an emphysema patient with air tubes wrapped all around her. A couple days after that Cory had drawn a picture on Shawn's pack of cigarettes in Sharpie. It was of a tombstone with the words "If Only I Hadn't Smoked" engraved on it. Subtle, he was not.

"No idea," Shawn replied, "I don't actually know what to get anyone. At least my brother was easy. He's in Nigeria so I just sent him a box full of candy and Mac and Cheese, I'm not sure if he'll actually get it before Christmas or not."

"How long have you and Cory been together now?" Margot asked, stirring her coffee.

"About two months," Shawn answered.

"Hmm…. Maybe you should get him a boyfriendy gift this year," Margot suggested, "You know? Something  _sexy_."

"I don't really want to get anything too. "boyfriendy". I don't know… things haven't really changed that much? We're not so much,  _boyfriends_  as we are…exclusive best friends with benefits."

Margot laughed at him, "Okay. I don't know. Maybe a book then."

"I also need to get something for his brother Eric, his sister Morgan, and his parents. I'm really worried about what to get his parents."

"Yeah. I can imagine it's nearly impossible to find a "Sorry I turned your son gay, but Merry Christmas" present," Margot nodded.

"Yeah, it's more of a "Sorry I caused him to divorce the daughter in law you loved, am the reason he isn't moving home, am an aspiring author working in a coffee shop, and that he's dating me, but Merry Christmas" actually," Shawn took a sip of his cocoa, "This is going to be weird. I mean, I always go to the Matthew's for Christmas, but you know-"

"Now you're fucking their son?" Margot grinned.

Shawn blushed, "No… I mean, we're… getting there, it's just…"

"You should get on that," Margot told him, "Literally," she stuck her tongue out at him.

Shawn blushed deeper, "We're taking it a little slow, okay? It's not like there's any hurry, and there's the history and …" Shawn's voice petered out in embarrassment.

"Taking it slow?" Margot demanded, "Haven't you guys already waited, like 20 years? Aren't you all deeply in love or whatever? Plus hasn't it been over a year for you now?"

"Yeah, but now, it's…" Shawn rolled his eyes, "Look, I'm not getting  _laid_ , but I am getting  _some_. Okay?  _Anyway_ , at least his parents took the news that we're together pretty well, right?"

"Yeah. At least don't have to worry about telling them  _and_  finding them a present," Margot agreed, "Have you told Jack?"

"I wrote him a letter a couple weeks ago. It takes a while for mail to get back and forth. I haven't heard back from him yet."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Margot told him, "So, are you going to ask me about my date with Ting or not?"

Shawn smiled, "Oh right. How was your date with Ting?"

Margot called the guy that often came in to the shop to flirt with her "Ting" because, "His smile is so beautiful it needs a sound effect, like in the commercials". Shawn and Margot had several names for the regulars whose names they didn't actually know. In addition to Ting there was also Eyebrows, a guy who came in every morning to order a blueberry muffin and a small coffee, Fingernails, a large black woman with 2 inch long bright red fake fingernails that she tapped on the counter incessantly until her order was up, Smokes-in-the-Bathroom, and of course Sexy Sweater, who was tall and blond, and always wore tight sweaters that showed off his physique.

Shawn had never met Ting, but a couple days ago Sexy Sweater had given Shawn a receipt with his phone number scribbled beneath his signature yesterday and the words "You're cute" written under that. Shawn had panicked and told Sexy Sweater that he had a girlfriend. He hadn't had the heart to tell Agnes, who had been giving Sexy Sweater a twenty percent discount on anything he ordered. And he hadn't mentioned the incident to Cory, who probably wouldn't have found it funny. Margot had laughed herself sick when Shawn told her about it.

"My date with Ting was awesome," Margot gushed, "He took me for a walk in the park and then to this little hole in the wall Turkish place. He knew the owners and they brought us these tiny cups of bright orange tea free with our meal. Oh! And he's so funny! We stayed after we ate and talked for like, a couple of hours."

Shawn nodded, "D'you go back to his place?"

"Yeah, but  _just_ for a cup of coffee," Margot clarified, "He's got a crazy nice apartment. And I got possibly the best good-night kiss I've ever gotten. He did this like, really gentle tug with his teeth at my bottom lip. It sounds weird but it was really sexy."

"Yeah," Shawn smiled and bit his own lip, "Cory does that. It's… yeah," He cleared his throat and kept grinning.

"Look at you!" Margot beamed, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand, "With your big grin just thinking about him. Goddess you're cute."

Shawn giggled, then realized it and slapped a hand over his mouth.

Margot laughed at him, "What was that? What was that sound you just made?"

"I haven't done that since Angela was still the "Purse Girl'," Shawn told her, still red.

"What?"

"In high school I had this two week rule remember? Angela and I broke up after her two weeks but then like a week later I found this purse somewhere with all this stuff in it, that made me think that the owner of this purse and I would be compatible. So, I fell in love with this imaginary "Purse Girl" and carried the purse around looking for the girl it belonged to. It was very Cinderella."

Margot stared at him, "Your life in high school was very  _very_  strange, Shawn Hunter."

"Yeah. Only getting stranger," Shawn agreed.

"You'll notice that I'm not teasing you about carrying a purse around your high school."

"Yes. Appreciated," Shawn sighed, "So I take it you're going to see this guy again?"

"Yeah. He said he'd call me when he got off work today," Margot grinned, "Yay!"

* * *

Cory was at his and Shawn's apartment, packing. Well, mostly pa _ni_ cking, but trying his best to throw some clothes in a suitcase while he did.

He and Shawn were going to his parent's house for Christmas. He  _and_  Shawn were going to his parent's house for Christmas. There was no Topanga, just him and  _Shawn_. He was freaking out.

Cory pulled a sweater that he thought might, on second thought, be kind of effeminate out of his suitcase and threw it on the bed (his  _and Shawn's_  bed). Then he took out the long sleeve T-shirt under it. He scratched his beard and wondered if he should shave it off. He put the long sleeve T-shirt back into the suitcase.

"This is crazy," He said out loud to himself, "You do not have gay clothes!"

He dropped his hands into his face, then rubbed them over his face and massaged his temples, "Ice cream," he moaned, "Ice cream would be good."

He took the long sleeved T-shirt out of the suitcase again and went into the kitchen. The oven clock read 10:30. Shawn would be getting home soon. Cory put a scoop of ice cream into a bowl, added another, and curled up on the couch. He took a bite and began picking the brownie bits out of the ice cream. He liked to eat those last. There was a knock at the door.

"It's open!" He took another bite of ice cream.

"Hey, Cory."

Topanga stood in his door way in a knee length black pea coat. She'd cut her hair short, and now it fell to just below her ears in a dirty blond bob. She held two presents with a big red bows in her arms.

"Hey," he responded, frozen to the couch, his spoon still in his mouth.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Hey," he repeated, too shocked to produce a new thought.

It had been almost complete radio silence between him and Topanga since she'd moved out a month ago. He was terrified of talking to her in case she could tell, even via phone, that all of her suspicions about Shawn were true and he assumed that she hated him too much to deal with him. The extent of their interaction was limited to occasional and very formal emails sent to him about divorce proceedings. Cory had been petrified that his wife, who spent her days surrounded by high powered lawyer types, would find a way to wring him out of everything he was worth, little though that was. Topanga couldn't figure out how to tell him that she still loved him too much to try and hurt him that way. She wanted out of the marriage as quickly as possible and with as little mess as she could manage.

"I'll take that as a yes," Topanga stepped inside.

"Yes," The spoon fell out of his mouth, "Yes- Sorry, yes- Come in," he set his bowl down on the coffee table and glanced nervously at the clock, "Wow. Look at you. You look different. Good!" Cory spluttered, "You look good. With the hair. Short hair." He coughed, "What are you….what are you doing here, Topanga?"

She raised the box in her arms, "Your phone is off, Shawn didn't answer his. I knew you'd still be up. I came by with the presents I got for your parents. I thought you could bring them to your house when you go."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Cory said taking the boxes from her and setting them under the little plastic tree that he and Shawn had put up, "What did you get them?"

"I'm not going to tell you," Topanga gave him a strained smile, "You know you can't keep a secret."

Cory choked.

"Cory!"

"No, I'm okay," Cory massaged his throat, "I'm okay, chocolate chip, I'm okay."

"Uh-huh," Topanga nodded, "Well, that was it. I should probably go."

"Oh… no you don't… need to," Cory stuttered, "Um… How have you been?"

"Fine," Topanga said, sticking her hands in her pockets, "You?"

"Good!" Cory realized that he probably shouldn't sound so cheerful in this situation, "Ahem. I've been good."

Topanga tilted her head, "You're eating ice cream alone in your pajamas."

"Oh. Yeah. That," Cory scratched his neck, "Umm… Christmas with my parents is going to be  _fuck awkward_  this year. You know, I'm divorced, refusing to come home… and I have no idea what I'm doing with my life."

"Me too," Topanga nodded, "I haven't spent Christmas with my own parents in years and now I have to choose between them, or blow them off entirely and go to a roommate's Christmas with her family."

"I'm sorry." Cory said sincerely.

The conversation lulled uncomfortably.  _"And whose fault is that?"_  hung in the air like a big pink rhinoceros.

"You're refusing to go back to Philadelphia?" Topanga asked eventually, "But you've  _never_ liked New York what's- Oh," She pursed her lips, "Shawn."

"No," Cory scoffed, "Not Shawn. I like my job at the restaurant, I like this apartment, and New York's got to be the best place to figure out what you want to do right?" Cory shrugged, "How about you? How's the internship?"

"I quit," Topanga told him, "I hated it and I quit."

"You quit?"

"Yep. Walked out a couple weeks ago, got a job in the admissions office at school, making just enough money to buy my own groceries so I'm not eating my friends out of house and home," Topanga laughed mirthlessly, "And I'm going to apply for dorm housing for the next semester."

"You quit the internship you made me move to New York for?" Cory demanded.

Topanga sighed, "It's actually kind of a relief you know? Being this normal college girl."

"Oh good! Cause it was only, you know,  _the job you made me move to New York for!_ " Cory growled.

The door opened and Shawn walked in, with a small paper bag in one hand, "Hey Cor, I got you- Topanga?" Shawn stopped dead in the door way.

"Hello, Shawn," Topanga said levelly. Shawn cleared his throat and started clumsily trying to pull off his coat.

"Hey Topanga, Whatcha doin here?" He looked from Topanga to Cory, "What's she doing here?"

" _I'm here_  dropping off presents for my former in-laws, Shawn."

"Oh. Good. That's… good," Shawn twittered, "How have you been?"

"She quit the internship we all moved to New York for," Cory declared indignantly.

"Oh," Shawn began edging into the living room, "Well, hey. Good for you."

Topanga agitatedly brushed her hair behind her ear, "You know what Cory- You have no right to be mad about this."

"You know I think I do. In fact, if we were still together, I might just be completely furious about this," Cory huffed.

"The hair cut's nice," Shawn tried to interrupt.

"Well,  _Cor_ , You just go ahead and do that," Topanga said, beginning to walk toward the door, "You be furious about me quitting and I'll continue to be furious about the divorce. Will that make us even?" She slammed the door behind her. Shawn winced at the sound.

"Wow," he said, sitting on the back of the couch next to Cory, "That was really  _really_  awkward," he wrapped his arm around him and settled his head onto Cory's shoulder, pulling him into a side-hug, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm-" The door opened again and Cory jumped away from Shawn with enough force to knock Shawn off balance. He toppled off of his perch on the back of the couch, and flopped

down onto the cushions, with his legs still hanging over the couch back. It was Topanga at the door again.

"Oh, and be careful with the present for your mom. It's fragile," she said. Once again, she slammed the door behind her.

"Jesus, Cory," Shawn exhaled as he spun his legs onto the couch with the rest of him.

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"I know. You don't want Topanga to find out," Shawn muttered, "I get it. I was letting you go when I heard the door open. You didn't need to knock me down."

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry," Cory said again, moving onto the couch next to Shawn. He picked up his bowl of ice cream and offered it to him, "You can have some of my brownie bits."

"Nah. Too cold for ice cream," Shawn waved it away and Cory dove back into the bowl with his spoon, "Wait, you were eating ice cream alone in your pajamas before Topanga showed up? What's wrong?"

"I was trying to pack. Got a little freaked out," Cory answered staring into his bowl.

"You were trying to pack already? Cor, we're not leaving until the end of the week!"

"I know, I'm just anxious. This is going to be…"

"Weird. I know, Cor. But hey, they know, they're okay with it. So it'll be weird, but it'll be alright."

"Uh-huh," Cory agreed through another bite of ice cream. He sighed and looked up at Shawn, "You're right," He managed a weak smile and pulled his legs onto the couch before spreading them over Shawn's legs, "How was your day?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing too exciting," Shawn shrugged, beginning to pick at one of the small holes in the knee of Cory's pajama bottoms, which were really worn out and beginning to fray, "Made coffee, sold it to people. I brought you a couple of the cranberry scones you like for breakfast. Margot told me about her date. Several times, actually."

"With Ting?"

Margot had told Cory all about her crush on Ting when she, Agnes and Cory and Shawn had gone out for a beer the other night, and Cory, ever the gossip, was keen to keep up on events. Shawn relayed what Margot had told him and how excited she was.

"Hey, did you find out his real name?" Cory asked eagerly.

"You know, I didn't think to ask."

"Oh well. Good for Margot!" Cory exclaimed, "She's such a great girl, she deserves someone."

Shawn continued to fray the edges of one of the holes, "What did Topanga get your parents?"

"She wouldn't tell me. She says I can't keep a secret," Cory finished his ice cream and set the bowl on the coffee table. Shawn chuckled quietly.

"I cannot figure out what to get them," he admitted, "I mean, it has to be really, really good right? Totally perfect. I want them to like me."

"What are you talking about, they already love you."

"Yeah, I know, but things are completely different now," Shawn sighed, "I'm just nervous."

"Yeah, me too."

"I think I'm going to get Morgan this book that Margot was telling me about."

They sat in a tired sort of silence for a little while. Cory thinking about his suitcase again, Shawn about Topanga suddenly turning up.

"You know, I'm not entirely sure that Eric even knows about Topanga," Cory said eventually.

"When was the last time anyone talked to him?" Shawn inquired.

"I have no idea," Cory admitted, "More than a month. You know, I'm not sure if he's even coming home for Christmas. Hey, that tickles."

Shawn had slid a finger through one of the holes in Cory's pajamas and was brushing the hair on Cory's knees. Cory kicked a half-heartedly and Shawn smiled, but didn't stop. Cory grabbed Shawn's arm and slid his own legs off of Shawn's. He brought his face to Shawn's and kissed him. Shawn wrapped an arm around Cory's waist and pressed his body closer to Cory's. Cory's lips were cold and sweet from the ice cream.

Shawn had been tired when he'd gotten off of work, he'd been looking forward to getting into his pajamas right away and reading in bed with Cory for a little while before they fell asleep. But seeing Topanga in the apartment had gotten him riled up.

He leaned into Cory, gently pushing him back onto the couch. Shawn knew that it was silly, but ever since she'd left, Topanga had made him feel like his own claim on Cory was tenuous somehow. Topanga had been this unmovable presence in Cory's life for years. She'd been his first kiss, his first love, his wife, the girl he lost his virginity to. So much of Cory still belonged to Topanga- Shawn envied her that.

Shawn let all of his weight press into Cory's body, and slid his hands into Cory's hair. He pulled back from the kiss and whispered, "You wanna go to bed?"

Cory smiled, "Sure."

Topanga made Shawn feel like Cory could slip through his fingers the same way he'd slipped through hers.

Cory and Shawn walked hand in hand to their bedroom and fell, kissing, onto the bed. They lay on their sides, Cory running his fingers along the back of Shawn's neck.

Shawn had seen Cory and Topanga kiss against lockers and at doors for years. He'd watched them walk down hallways with their hands clasped between them. He wished, as Cory's hands, still a little cold, slid under his shirt, that Cory would hold his hand in public sometimes. Cory let his teeth drag gently over Shawn's bottom lip, and Shawn let out just the tiniest bit of a moan. Cory chuckled.

"I love when you do that," Shawn whispered.

"I love when you make that sound," Cory whispered back, kissing Shawn's chin, then his jaw, then down his neck, pulling Shawn's sweater down just enough to kiss his collarbone.

He shouldn't worry so much about Topanga, Shawn thought. Cory loved him. Cory had told his parents about him. That was a huge gift. But, as Shawn sank underneath Cory's weight, he remembered just how quickly Cory had jumped away from him when the door had opened again tonight. It had hurt.

 


	2. I'm Smiling Aren't I?

Cory made sure he had a good grip on his large tray full of heavy plates of pasta, and then carefully walked out to bring orders out to his last table of the night, a cute couple out for their anniversary. He smiled as he set a heaping plate of spaghetti in front of the young man, and a plate of ravioli in front of his ravishing date.

"You know what Emily?" The young man said, "What the hell!" he turned to Cory, "Could you bring us a bottle of champagne? Please?"

"No problem sir, I'll have that brought right out," Cory nodded. The young man grinned and grabbed Emily's hand and Cory headed back to the fridge to grab them a bottle. Carl, another waiter, was taking down a bottle of wine from the shelf next to the fridge.

"Man," he started, "Am I jealous of you tonight or what?"

"Why's that?" Cory asked without any real interest. Cory was five minutes away from getting out of here tonight, and something about Carl rubbed him the wrong way.

"That hot girl at your table man! With the hair and that low cut dress," he smirked and held his hands out as though holding a pair of melons against his chest, "And everything that dress is showing off, and the chance to look down it every time you go back there," Carl whistled, "My tables a couple of women look like my Gramma."

Actually, most things about Carl rubbed Cory the wrong way.

"Probably a good thing our tables aren't switched then," Cory sighed, "Guy at my table just ordered a bottle of champagne, he's wearing a suit, looks nervous, this is their anniversary. Looks like a proposal to me."

"Damn," Carl said, "Hate to see tits like that off the market," he elbowed Cory, "You know what I mean!"

Cory did his best to fake a conspiratorial grin. Carl shouted "You know what I mean!" at Cory several times a day in reference to his supposition that he and Cory were bonding over the same enjoyment of the hotness of the assorted female patrons of the restaurant. It annoyed Cory to no end.

Cory left the kitchen, regretting again that he had told his co-workers that he was in the middle of a divorce. If he'd still had a wife he'd be able to claim  _that_  as the reason that the way Carl (and Tony, and Rob and Ethan) talked about the female customers bothered him. "I'm happily married, I don't even look" was a good excuse for getting out of those conversations with only minimal razzing, "The Mrs. wouldn't want me talking like that" worked too. If the other guys knew that you were involved with a woman, you could even fall back on "Hey, man I've just a got more respect for women than that". But if you were one of the few single straight guys at this restaurant, like Cory was supposed to be, you couldn't just decline to participate in these conversations.

The day after Cory had been trained in, Carl had asked Cory if he had seen "the ass on that chick in the red skirt" and Cory had replied "You shouldn't say chick". Carl's response had been "How gay are you man?" and Cory had made a point of commenting on either the backside or the cleavage of every woman that walked in for the rest of the day. He hated it, but it was either be a jerk among jerks, or get lumped in with the three gay waiters and be ostracized by the rest of the male staff. It was like high school cliques all over again, except that in high school Cory had gotten away without having a clique because he had Shawn and Topanga, and now he had to fend for himself.

Cory opened the bottle of champagne at the table, wiped it dry and offered to pour the couple's glasses, but the young man in the suit took the bottle from him with shaking hands and poured for his date himself.

Cory went back to the employee's locker room, grabbed his street clothes and went to the bathroom to change, resting his head briefly against the cool tiled wall after he'd pulled his shirt on. He ran over his packing list again. He and Shawn were taking the train out to Philadelphia tomorrow afternoon and it had taken him until this morning to be satisfied with his selection of clothes. With those packed his fear over what to bring home with him had wound down to a normal slight anxiety that he would forget his toothbrush or accidentally not pack enough underwear. He went back to the locker room, put his work clothes away, grabbed his coat and scarf and wished Rob and Jim a good night before taking off. As he walked past the front window he saw the guy from his table pull a small box out of his jacket pocket. Cory had been right about the proposal.

Cory had spent most of his engagement wishing that he'd had the chance to propose to Topanga before she'd beaten him too it. He had felt robbed of an opportunity. After all, he  _had_  thought about how he would have proposed to Topanga. He would have filled her room with flowers. Or maybe driven up to Yale, special, gotten one of her professors to write it on the board in class, and then he could've walked in with the ring.

Well, he thought, sure as hell doesn't matter now, does it Cory? He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck to keep out the snow. Topanga saw right through you didn't she? Cory felt his mind beginning to work its way along an all too familiar path- When had Topanga figured it out? When had she realized that it wasn't just something she could joke about and find slightly annoying? As he started up the steps to his and Shawn's apartment he wondered for the first time if Topanga had known all the way back then, when she'd proposed. If maybe she'd decided  _that_  long ago that she had to stake her claim in him. Maybe she'd been worried that if she went to Yale without him, he'd look around and figure out what he had with her gone.

"Hey Cor," Shawn called from the kitchen as Cory walked in, "I made spinach pie. The top's kinda burnt, but I'm getting better."

"That explains the smell," Cory smiled, pulling off his coat and hanging on the rack by the door.

"It's good. I swear it's good. You just have to, you know, scrape the top part off."

Cory walked over to the table and kissed Shawn lightly on the temple.

"What was that for?" Shawn asked.

"Just glad to be home," Cory sighed.

Cory and Shawn cheerfully talked about their days over their slightly burnt dinner. Cory faked most of the cheer from his day. He liked being a waiter, he liked his boss, and the wages and tips were both excellent, but he hadn't been sure how to tell Shawn about his problems with his co-workers and so he'd just… not.

They finished eating and began washing the dishes together.

"We should go out tonight," Shawn said. Nearly every night this week Shawn had requested that he and Cory go out together.

"I don't know Shawn," Cory replied. Like he usually did.

"Cory, I'm going to go crazy if I sit in this apartment all night again," Shawn replied in a tone that reminded Cory forcefully of Topanga, "We both need to blow off a little bit of steam okay? Tomorrow is going to be a really stressful day, and I need to go out tonight."

"Okay," Cory agreed, pulling a drying rag out of a drawer, "Let's give Agnes and Margot a call and go to a movie or something."

"Actually," Shawn said handing him another rinsed plate, "Why don't we go out, just the two of us. We haven't just gone out for a beer in forever. We used to go all the time."

This is what Cory had been trying to avoid all week. Being out in public, just him and Shawn, made him jittery. Cory could sit in their apartment and kiss Shawn and whisper to him and touch him forever, but the second they were out in public together, Cory could feel stranger's eyes burning into him. He felt like he had some sort of huge neon sign hanging around his neck "I am dating this man next to me". He felt completely transparent, and he was worried that Shawn would pick up on his reluctance to the two of them being linked romantically in public.

On top of all of this, just the fact that Cory was trying to keep secrets from Shawn at all was beginning to worry him. He had never had secrets from Shawn before and now he had several. Sometimes he could feel his heart rate pickup all of a sudden just because he was so worried that Shawn would find out and be mad at him. Twice this week, Cory had picked up his phone and debated with himself whether or not to call Margot and come completely clean, just to get the weight off his shoulders. Because he'd never kept secrets before and now the secrets from Topanga, secrets from Eric, secrets from his parents, secrets at work and secrets from Shawn were starting to pile up. But both times he'd decided against it. Margot had the luxury of not keeping secrets from Shawn.

"Please Cor," Shawn wheedled, "Just one beer? Please?"

Cory took a deep breath, and reminded himself about everything that tomorrow's trip to Philly would have in store.

"You're right," he told Shawn, "We should go out."

* * *

Shawn was so relieved to have coaxed Cory out of the apartment tonight that he could sing. He had never been the sit at home type, and he knew that Cory was. He remembered when Cory and Topanga had thought that a really exciting night included a 60 minutes health special and a nine o'clock bedtime, and he had been worrying in the last couple of weeks that that was the life that you signed up for when you were dating Cory. Shawn was also hoping that if he could relieve some stress tonight, he might be mostly okay tomorrow night, sleeping under Cory's parent's roof.

Cory tapped his fingers along the side of his usual pear cider, and Shawn decided to forgo his ongoing beer exploration in favor of an oatmeal stout that he had really liked.

"This one's actually pretty good," Shawn said, sliding his glass toward Cory, "Wanna taste it?"

Cory glanced around them, and took a quick sip, "Yeah, it's good," he replied. He carefully slid Shawn's beer back to Shawn's side of the table and resumed staring into his own glass.

"Are you okay Cor?" Shawn asked, "You've been really twitchy all week."

"I'm worried about going home," Cory sighed.

"Yeah me too," Shawn gave Cory a little half smile that he hoped seemed commiserating. They both sipped at their drinks again, and Shawn decided to voice something that had been worrying him, "Did your parents mention… where we're sleeping… at all?"

"What?" Cory asked.

Shawn felt a little bit of a blush rising in his cheeks, "Like, are we in the same room?"

Cory cast another surreptitious glance around them, and Shawn wondered what he was looking out for, "I don't know Shawn. They didn't say anything about that."

"Oh. Okay," Shawn nodded quickly, "I just, you know, you and Topanga would've gotten a bed together, but it's more complicated with me and I just… I don't want to make your parents uncomfortable, but, I… it'd be weird to sleep without you now," Shawn reached a hand across the table and laid it over Cory's. Cory instantly yanked his hand out from under it and Shawn pulled his hand back to his beer, eyes downcast, biting his lip.

"You know Cory, sometimes I wish-"

"Hey! Matthews!" Someone yelled from behind Shawn. Shawn watched Cory's eyes go wide and his shoulders stiffen. Shawn turned in his seat to see a big, dark haired guy with thick eyebrows loping from the bar toward his and Cory's booth, with two bottles in one hand.

"Hey, Rob," Cory greeted him weakly, "How's it going?"

"It's alright, man," Rob said, clapping a hand roughly down on Cory's shoulder, "I didn't know this was your bar, I've never seen you here before."

"I'm just showing Shawn here around the city," Cory answered instantly, "Shawn, this is Rob from work," Rob reached out his empty hand to shake with Shawn, "Rob, this is my friend Shawn from Philly."

"Hey, nice to meet you," Rob said, "So how do you like New York?"

"Well, I've been living here for nearly a year, so I guess I like it okay," Shawn told him, shooting Cory a questioning look.

"Well, when I say, showing him the city I mean this part of it, you know. Cause he has lived here for a year, but he's over in Brooklyn and he doesn't get to my neighborhood very often."

"Oh no kidding," Rob said, "I grew up in Brooklyn. Where do you live over there?"

Shawn took in Cory's pleading eyes, "The east part," he answered.

Rob looked askance at him, but said, "Okay. Cool. Well, I better get back to my date with her drink," Rob raised the bottles in his hand, "Maybe I'll run into you some other time."

"Yeah man, sure," Cory responded. As Rob walked away Cory placed one hand over his eyes and exhaled forcefully. Shawn took a sip of his beer.

"Your friend from Philly huh?"

"Yeah. Rob's not… really that cool with…" Cory muttered, "I'm not that close with any of my work friends. They don't really know anything about my personal life."

"Like that you have a roommate?" Shawn asked pointedly, "I couldn't even have just been your roommate?"

"Look, Shawn, my work's really not like your work," Cory said in a low voice, "It's a bunch of…  _guy_  guys you know? I don't have… Margots and Johns running around at the restaurant. I try to fit in."

"Cor," Shawn sighed, "I get that. It's fine."

"I just… I really don't want them to know, and I worry that they could figure it out."

"Okay. It might help if you don't have to keep a bunch of lies straight though," Shawn took a deeper drink from his glass, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Cory shrugged, "I guess… I guess I just… Everyone at your work knows about…  _me_  and I… wasn't sure how to tell you that no one at  _my_  work… knows anything about me.

Shawn nodded and, mostly for something to do with his hands, took another drink.

"Let's go home, Cor," he sighed.

"You haven't even finished your drink yet," Cory protested.

"I'm tired. Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Shawn said, grabbing his jacket from the corner of the booth and sliding out onto the floor.

Cory grabbed his jacket and followed Shawn out the door, both of them waving to Rob on their way out. They didn't speak the whole way home.

"Shawn? Are you mad at me?" Cory asked as he unlocked their door and held it open for Shawn.

"No Cory, I'm not mad," Shawn began to pull his scarf off, "Why would I be mad?"

"Because of the lying to you about my work," Cory supplied.

"You didn't lie to me Cory," Shawn told him sincerely, "It's fine. Really. I don't care what you tell your co-workers. I don't care if they know about me or not. That's totally your call. I mean, the only reason my co-workers know is because I knew they wouldn't care. I get that not everywhere is going to be like that."

"Okay," Cory said, "So what are you upset about?"

"I'm not upset."

"Come on, Shawn," Cory rolled his eyes, "You're totally upset."

Shawn planted his feet on the kitchen floor and leaned against a cupboard with his arms crossed, "You're my best friend Cory."

"And you're my best friend," Cory responded, stepping slowly toward Shawn.

Shawn waited for a second, waiting for the addition that he knew wasn't going to come, "So, best friends tell each other everything right?"

"Right," Cory agreed, coming to stand directly in front of Shawn now.

"Normally you would tell me everything that was bothering you," Shawn said as Cory moved just a little closer, "Perhaps several more times than I wanted to hear it."

The corners of Cory's mouth pulled up very slightly, "Right."

"I'm just," Shawn kept going as Cory put his right hand on the cupboard next to Shawn's right hip, "I'm worried about how," Cory put his left hand on the counter by Shawn's left hip, "Our friendship is changing because of," Cory cut Shawn off with a kiss, "That," Shawn finished. Cory pressed his forehead to Shawn's.

"I know," he whispered, "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to hurt your feelings. I guess that failed miserably."

"No, it's okay, Cor," Shawn whispered back.

I'm spineless Shawn thought to himself. He'd spent the whole walk back plotting out a very careful speech about how he was upset about the way Cory acted around him in public. He worked out very articulate points about how he didn't like that it didn't feel like they were friends at all when they were out in public anymore and how Cory was starting to feel like two different people depending on what side of their door they were on. That's all the further Shawn had gotten though. There were other things that were bothering him but, poet or no, he couldn't figure out how to beat them into words.

Cory kissed him again and Shawn debated whether he should pull back and try to finish venting out his concerns or just let Cory keep kissing him.

If it was any other night he might have stopped, but tonight… he needed the comfort. Tomorrow was going to be a rough and strange day. He didn't know what would happen, he didn't know where he'd be sleeping.

"I promise that I will tell you the truth about work from now on," Cory told him.

"Okay," Shawn said.

It was okay, Shawn thought to himself as Cory wrapped an arm around his back and continued kissing him. They were Cory-and-Shawn and nothing was going to change that. They were both under a lot of stress right now, and they could talk about it later.

It would be okay.

 


	3. Taking It Slow

Shawn wondered sometimes if anyone else in the world spent several seconds taking in where they were and remembering how they got there when they woke up in the morning. It was something he'd never quite managed to shake. He supposed kids that had woken up in the same bedroom, in the same house for most of their lives, like Cory, never did, but Shawn was pretty sure he always had. Being shunted from house to house while your father was out looking for your renegade mother, who turned out not to have been your mother after all, would do that to you. Waking up in your English teacher's extra bedroom would do that to you. Even Cory didn't know that a couple of times in high school Shawn had woken up and spent several seconds taking in the fact that he was in a sleeping bag under the slide at the park. Sometimes it was just easier than trying to find someone to give you a place to sleep when you didn't have one.

This morning's wake up report was pretty much like all mornings of the last few months. Shawn's face was cold, his body, underneath the covers and pressed into Cory's, was warm. Cory's face rested on Shawn's shoulder, his arm wrapped around Shawn's stomach, and Shawn noted with exasperation that this morning, his pajama bottoms were still on. Like they had been. Every morning. For the last two months.

Shawn had admitted to Margot that he and Cory were taking it slow, but he'd allowed her to think that they weren't going quite as slow as they actually were. Margot was under the impression that Cory and Shawn were hovering around third base, where in reality they were just running back and forth between first and second, which Shawn was finding increasingly frustrating.

He wasn't ready to grab Cory and run for home yet, he probably wouldn't be for a while yet. He'd never…done that… before and he wasn't entirely sure how to bring up the details with Cory. It was going to be a transition, but he wanted to move toward it, whereas Cory seemed to have stalled out completely right at the waistline. Cory's hands would rove over Shawn, and stop the second they hit the elastic of his waist band, and the few times Shawn had tried to slip a hand under Cory's boxers, Cory had moved or shifted his weight away. The last time Shawn had tried, Cory had simply pulled the wayward hand up onto his back again and gone on kissing Shawn like nothing had happened.

But Shawn hadn't said anything. He knew Cory didn't have a lot of experience. Shawn had spent many an hour before Cory and Topanga had been married listening to Cory lament the fact that he couldn't even get under Topanga's shirt and was, in fact, barely allowed over it. And after they'd been married Shawn and Cory had had a couple of conversations whispered over a beer about how now that Cory was finally allowed below Topanga's belt, he wasn't a hundred percent sure that he knew how to take full advantage of it. Having slept on the other side of the very thin wall through many of Cory and Topanga's standing 9:30 Friday night engagements, Shawn was under the impression that Cory had been right about that.

Maybe Shawn would just have to be patient with Cory, he thought as he rolled out from under Cory's arm. His best friend had never been good with change. Maybe he thought that they were absolutely zooming along. Besides, Cory was a  _really_  good kisser, that being the one thing he'd had years of practice with, and maybe if Shawn held out a little longer, he could try bringing the other stuff up again.

Shawn went out to the kitchen and started the coffee pot before hopping into the shower. Like usual, the sound of the shower running woke Cory up, and he was waiting for the bathroom when Shawn walked out. They poured each other's cereal and sat down to a quiet breakfast of spoons clinking against bowls and coffee cups settling onto the counter. Shawn spent the hour before they left for the train station sitting on the couch pretending to read a book that John had lent him. Cory went back to their bedroom and evaluated the contents of his suitcase three more times. When Shawn came in to get him he was shoving extra underwear in one of the side pockets.

"Ready?" Shawn asked.

Cory nodded mutely, jaw clenched tight and carried his suitcase out to where Shawn's was already waiting in front of the door.

"Okay," Shawn exhaled sharply, "Let the in-lawing begin huh?" He reached to pull the door open and Cory set a hand gently on his wrist.

"Shawn?"

"Yeah, Cor?" Shawn looked up into Cory's blank, pale face. Cory tried to say something, stammered, and then just said, "Umm… just, kiss me before we go?"

* * *

Finding a cab was easy and traffic wasn't as bad as they had expected. They made it to the train station with plenty of time to spare and had already stowed their luggage and settled into a pair of seats facing two other pairs of seats, when they heard, from all the way on the other side of the train car-

"Hey Cory! Co-oo-ooo-ory!"

Eric's cry caused people all over the train car to jump, and his skipping down the narrow isle caused several others to be whacked with his luggage and swear loudly. He tossed his knobbly duffle up into the overhead, and it bounced right back into his arms. He shrugged and tossed it between the seats. As Eric plopped down in front of them Shawn and Cory finally got a good look at his clothes.

"What are you wearing?" Shawn demanded incredulously as Eric pulled a miniature mad-lib book out of his back pocket.

"Oh these?" Eric asked tugging at his black pinstripe dress shirt, "Andy started working out and none of his clothes fit right so he said I could take whatever I liked."

The shirt was tight, tailored and unbuttoned down to the middle, showing off the tight canary yellow t-shirt underneath it. Eric had paired it, or been instructed to pair it, with a pair of dark wash straight legged jeans. The New York life had melted the extra flub off of Eric since they last saw him. The jeans were certainly tighter than anything that anyone would have wanted to see Eric in a few months ago. A recognizable pair of Eric's worn tennis shoes poked oddly out from under the jeans.

"And your hair?" Cory asked. His last year of college Eric had finally traded his awful 90's long hair in for spikes and gel in his last year of college. He'd grown it back out, but instead of his heavy blond curtains his hair was dyed a dark brown, short in the back, long in the front.

"You look like the cover of a Bowie album man," Shawn said, remembering the huge poster of London Boy by Margot's bed.

Eric shrugged again, "I hadn't cut my hair since we left Philly and Andy's boy- Carlisle- is some sort of hot-shot hairstylist to the stars. We got into the liquor one night and Carlisle was like "Honey, you look like a bum," and he," Eric whistled and buzzed a hand over his head, "trimmed it right up. I dyed it myself though. Have you guys ever had a "mojito"?"

"No," Cory and Shawn said both of them shaking their heads while they stared at Eric.

"You should," He declared.

"Wait," Shawn started, "Who's Andy?"

"My roommate," Eric said, "You guys have met Andy."

"No," Cory and Shawn answered together again.

"We haven't. We've never actually been to your apartment," Cory said slowly, wondering what Eric imagined he had done at his apartment.

"I know," Eric sighed, "Hint hint. I haven't seen my brother, or his wife, or my old roommate since I moved out your apartment!"

"His boy Carlisle?" Shawn asked, unable to stop himself.

"Yeah," Eric tugged at his bangs, "Andy doesn't really end up with, you know, long term boyfriends because he's gone so often, but Carlisle's a pretty regular feature around the apartment."

"Oh." Cory answered, shifting uncomfortably.

"He's much cooler than Andy's other boys. When Carlisle stays over he makes pancakes for everyone in the morning. We hang out sometimes when Andy's gone. We caught this action flick the other night that Andy just refused to see."

This, Shawn thought to himself, would be the perfect time to tell Eric. But just then the train started chugging its way down the track and a look of concern passed over Eric's face.

"Where's Pangy?"

Shawn stiffened. Cory just bit his lip and began rubbing his temple with his first two fingers, "She's not coming Eric."

"Oh. Okay," Eric picked up on Cory's tone and instantly changed the subject. As the train began to gain speed he launched into a story about exactly how large he'd been living in his ultra-chic apartment and gave Shawn a wink or suggestive eyebrow waggle whenever models, actresses, or playmates were mentioned. Cory tried to comment on one of the actresses that Eric mentioned and imply that he'd like to  _get with_  her, but didn't quite manage to make it sound sincere. Shawn, out of passive aggressiveness more than anything else, began returning all of Eric's winks and waggles.

"So, how many of these lovely ladies end up in your bed for the night Eric?" Shawn inquired.

Eric tugged at his bangs again, "These days? Not a lot. I mean, a couple when I first moved in, but you, uh, learn your lesson quick. They throw a hell of a party, but none of these girls are really…girlfriend material. Little too crazy," Eric spun his finger near his head, and Shawn had a horrifying moment of imagining a girl too crazy for Eric, "I'm sticking with low maintenance girls from now on, you know? Nice girls."

"Where are you working now?" Cory cut in before the conversation could turn to anyone else's love life. Eric had managed to find a job in a women's clothing boutique a couple of streets over from where he lived, selling dresses and purses that cost more than the month's rent that he barely contributed to. The conversation petered out and the three boys looked out the windows for a while, before Eric fell asleep.

The train ride felt entirely too short for "Next Stop Philadelphia" to already be announced over the intercom. Shawn grabbed Eric's knee and shook him awake. They shuffled their luggage out of the train with Eric in front. The passengers who had already had bruises from his bag waited for him to pass.

"You guys excited to be home for a while?" Eric asked

"Yeah," Cory answered throatily- he looked pale as a sheet to Shawn, "Should be good. Peace. Quiet. Mom cooked food."

"Is that a crack at my cooking?" Shawn tried to joke, but Cory's face stayed wan, his jaw clenched tight as they walked into the station from the platform.

"Boys!" Shawn heard Amy calling, "Boys! Over here!" Shawn turned and saw Amy Matthews jogging up to all of them, "Gosh Eric, look at you, you look like a city kid now," She grabbed him in a big hug, "And Shawn, you too!", she hugged Shawn and turned to Cory, "Hey kiddo," she squeezed him the tightest and longest before she directed the three of them toward her car.

Amy seemed to have decided to use Eric's same tactic of simply avoiding any talking or questioning about Cory and The Divorce. Cory sat on the other side of Shawn, staring morosely out of the window, his face looking more and more like it was frozen in a grimace. Eric and Amy talked for the whole drive through familiar streets and childhood haunts until eventually they pulled into the Matthew's driveway. Amy came around the back to open the gate for all of them and caught sight of Cory as he reluctantly got out of the car.

"Honey?" Amy placed the back of her hand on his forehead, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, Mom, I'm fine."

Amy gave him a skeptical once-over, "Really? You've got a cold sweat, and you look terrible"

"Probably the chill, It's colder here than in New York," Cory ducked past her and the three boys hauled their luggage into the house, where Alan was waiting for them. He pulled all three boys in for bear hugs as they set down their bags.

"If you boys want to carry your luggage upstairs, we put Josh in our room for the next few days, and- Eric, Cory- we pushed your beds back into your old room, and you just have to fight it out over who has to sleep on the mattress on the floor. Shawn, you're the guest of honor, you get the guest room in the basement, and I cleaned the shower down there, but you'll still have to compete with these two for the upstairs bathroom because there's no toilet down there. And it's a little cooler, so if you want just take an extra blanket out of the living room."

Oh, Shawn thought, so it  _was_  like that. Okay. Fine. It was still nice of her. He faked a smile, "Thanks Mrs. Matthews. That's great," he toyed uncomfortably with the strap of his own duffle.

"You don't have to put everything away yet, sit down, talk to us for a while," Alan waved them all over to kitchen door, "Cory, you look like you could use something to eat. We've got a couple muffins left. I can heat up a cup of coffee if you want?"

"Yeah," Cory responded in the same weak voice he'd had all day, "Yeah, thanks Dad, I'd like a muffin."

Cory followed his father into the kitchen. Shawn opted for a cup of coffee too. Eric dug through the cupboard for a tea bag and stuck a mug of water in the microwave.

"So Cory," Amy asked gently, "How is your new job?"

"It's okay. You know. It's a fancy place so the tips are really good. The uniforms are okay. My co-workers are nice."

Amy, Cory and Shawn chatted about their jobs and even forayed into the sticky topic of going back to school. Eric sleepily dipped Gingerbread men into his tea. As Cory scarfed down his muffin Amy began to insinuate that she'd really like to see Cory back in Philadelphia and back at Pennbrooke.

"A little independence is good for the boy, Amy," Alan sighed, "If he wants to stay out there let him. Right Shawn? You two like it out there?"

"Yes sir. It's exciting," Shawn responded tapping his mug with his fingernails. He had never felt so awkward in his entire life. Wasn't anyone going to say anything about it? Was he not supposed to mention it? We're Cory's parents less okay with this than he had been led to believe? He'd been with the Matthew's family for probably an hour so far and they had Not Mentioned The Divorce and had Not Mentioned his and Cory's budding relationship. Everyone was being perfectly friendly, and all awkwardness seemed to be aimed directly at Cory… but there was the fact that two sets of staircases had been put between Shawn and Cory. That was hard to ignore.

Eric finished his tea and yawned deeply.

"I am not going to make it much longer without a nap," he declared rubbing his fist in his eye like a toddler.

"Wild city lifestyle catching up to you?" Alan smiled.

"You know me," Eric shrugged, took his mug over to the sink and went upstairs.

"So, Shawn," Alan started, "How's your wild city life treating you?"

"Pretty well Mr. Matthews. I'm, you know, working. I'm trying to start submitting some poems to art contests in the city. I've got a friend at work helping me out with that. I don't know if it'll go anywhere, but the prize money might be a nice bonus."

"And how's that girlfriend of yours?" Alan asked.

Shawn gave him a confused sort of smile. It was a weird joke for Cory's father to be making, "Girlfrie-?" The smile melted off of his face as the truth clicked into place. He looked across the table at Cory, who had become deeply fascinated by his muffin paper.

"Girlfriend," Shawn repeated quietly, to Cory, "Umm… she's…great. You know. Cute... Nice. ummm…. Honest. Everything you want right? Lucky me," He swallowed hard, and tried to count to ten. Freaking out at this table was not an option.

"Cory's mentioned her a couple of times," Amy chimed in, "She sounds like a sweet girl. I'm glad to see you dating again."

"Yeah, well, Angela took some getting over, but I'm back out in the pond… just… fishing away," Shawn managed. He cleared his throat, "I need to go grab something from my luggage," he announced tapping his foot into Cory's toe. Cory didn't acknowledge it beyond shuffling his foot away.

"I may as well just put it away, actually," Shawn delivered a sharp kick to Cory's shin. Cory jumped, but finally cottoned on, "Yeah, I need to get something out of my luggage too."

Shawn got up from the table very carefully and steadily walked into the living room, Cory followed with his head hanging. Shawn made it all the way to the pile of all of luggage by the doorway before he felt the knot in his stomach clench painfully as he wondered if it would be considered domestic abuse, or just plain queeny to slap Cory right now.

"Shawn…" Cory started in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"You son of a bitch," Shawn hissed at him. Cory jumped to the front door and held it open, gesturing Shawn through it. Shawn stomped outside and Cory ducked out behind him.

"You lying… lying son of bitch!" Shawn exclaimed again.

"Look, I-"

"Lied!" Shawn supplied.

"Please, keep your voice down," Cory begged, "I was going to tell them, I swear I meant to tell them Shawn. But I just… whenever I tried the words got all… I just couldn't. You understand how hard this is for me right? Shawnie?

"No! No Cory," Shawn reverted back to a hiss, "I  _would have_  understood if you had  _told me_  that you couldn't tell them. But this is…" Shawn agitatedly wiped a tear out of his eye, "God! Cory, you just… you treat me like I'm… just," Shawn let out a growl as all the words he'd been holding in for the last two months stumbled over each other in their rush to escape, "And you didn't just lie about you and me," he finally managed, "You invented some imaginary diversion tactic girl. Who did you make up for me Cory? What's safety net girl's name? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Tell me you invented me some gorgeous, big-breasted, rich, ad-exec girlfriend!"

"I told them that you're dating Margot," Cory muttered.

"Right," Shawn gulped, "Of course. Margot. Always a great alibi."

"I couldn't do it Shawn. I tried."

"Then you shouldn't have told me that you didn't!" Shawn shouted. Cory instantly raised his hands, looked toward the door and shushed Shawn. Shawn's voice dropped into a low, scratchy register, the kind you hit when you can't quite scream or cry and wind up in between, "It was really important to me that you had told them Cory. Really important. And you just don't even get that."

Cory grabbed Shawn's arms and Shawn flung him off, "Don't. Just don't."

Cory agitatedly stretched his hand to the back of his neck, like he did when he was thinking or uncomfortable and Shawn stood in silence for a second, making his decision. He grabbed the door handle.

"Shawn?" Cory quavered, "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to grab my coat and go for a walk," Shawn said opening the door.

"Where am I going to tell my parents you went?" Cory demanded as Shawn pulled on his coat.

"Lie!" Shawn snarled, pulling the front door open. He stood in the doorway for a second, his back to Cory "Hey Cor,?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember that big fight you and Topanga had in high school, where she ran out crying?" Shawn's voice finally cracked.

"Yeah?"

Shawn turned just slightly, enough so Cory could see his face, "Remember how I told you that in my experience it was really bad when someone left crying?"

"Yeah?"

"Good," Shawn said, slamming the door behind him.


	4. Space

Margot sat in the laundry room with a book of poetry that Shawn had lent her. She had given up on the hope that it would help keep her awake and now she was trying to think of something nice to say about it when he asked her. She knew that he loved it, but she was having trouble figuring out what the line between poetry and randomly spaced nonsense was supposed to be.

Normally Margot would just leave her stuff in the laundry room, but she'd had three bras stolen in the last two weeks. In addition to being creepy as hell, bras were expensive, so she had decided to grab a book and stand underwear guard. Margot yawned deeply and turned the page as a girl with blondish brown hair walked into the laundry room.

"Hey," Margot greeted her, "You just moved into 303 down the hall right?"

"Yeah, that's me,"

"You might want to watch your laundry, someone's been stealing bras," Margot told her.

"Thanks for the heads up-"

Margot jumped as her pants pocket began to vibrate and blast music. She'd let Shawn pick out his own personal ringtone for her phone one time when they were bored at work and now every time he called her phone yelled out "HEY YOU GET OFF OF MY CLOUD". Margot sighed and pulled the phone out. She should probably secretly change Shawn's ring to some sort of soothing Enya song, considering how often he called.

"Sorry," Margot told the blond girl, "This is my needy drama friend. I have to take this or his head will explode."

The blonde girl chuckled and dragged her bag over to the washing machines.

"Hey Shawnie!" Margot answered, "Aren't you supposed to be in Philadelphia by now?"

"My LYING LIAR FACE boyfriend LIED to me about telling his parents that we were together," Shawn greeted her, Margot pulled the phone back from her ear at the noise.

"Ow, Shawn, EARS!" She countered. The blond girl glanced over at her.

"He lied? What? He just didn't tell them?"

"No! He told them that I'm dating you!" Shawn spat. She heard him exhale into the phone.

"Are you smoking?" Margot demanded.

"Hell yes, I'm smoking. I'm on my fourth damn cigarette, and then I'm going to have another and  _then_  I think I'm going to have three more on the way home and throw up on Cory the LIAR's bed!"

"Are you just walking around yelling?"

"It's more like stomping."

"Did you guys fight?" Margot asked.

"I stormed out crying. You know, in a manly way. He tried to get me to calm down and forgive him and he just doesn't get it. Cory has no idea why this was so important and he wants me to just…just-"

"Bend over and take it?" Margot suggested.

"So. Not. Funny right now Margot. Seriously," Shawn growled, "And you know what, while we're on the topic, Cory and I have not gotten past second. He doesn't want to touch me. Cory he just… he expects… it's so damn hard to fight with him because we've fought like three times in our whole lives. Oh and last night I found out that none of his work friends know about me, which I wouldn't have been mad about, except that he didn't tell me anything about his work friends not knowing anything about me. The lies are just stacking up, Margot."

The washer buzzed and Margot went to transfer her clothes to the dryer, "So Cory hasn't told anyone about you?"

"Yes!"

"And he's taking you for granted?"

"That's absolutely what he's doing!"

"Okay. You need to go back to his house and tell him that. Cause I've met Cory. Sweet kid, not exactly astute. He's probably got no idea that's what he's doing to you. I mean, It sounds a little like what happened between him and Topanga."

"Cory OF ALL PEOPLE should realize that he can't hang  _me_  out to dry like this. Everyone in my life has done this to me EXCEPT my best friend Cory. And this is not like what happened with Topanga."

"Fine, sorry. But he's not your best friend anymore babe."

"I noticed that," Shawn muttered.

"If I suggest something do you promise not to freak out?" Margot asked.

Another exhale into the phone, "Nope. I have hit my limit of freaking out today and cannot be pushed any further."

The blonde girl finally finished throwing all of her clothes in the washing machine, punched the buttons and began pulling clothes out of the dryer and folding them very carefully.

"Fine. I don't want to contribute to your impending mental breakdown. New suggestion: go write a poem about it."

"I can't go back yet. I'm so not calmed down enough to go deal with Cory's family. What the hell is wrong with him? You don't drop a bombshell like this at Christmas! It's not like I wasn't going to figure it out!"

"Are you going to tell his parents?" Margot asked, with another yawn.

"No. He was supposed to and I'm damn well going to make sure that he does," Margot heard Shawn sigh, "Ugh. Anyway. How are you? All I do is bitch about my life at you."

"I'm exhausted. I was out all night with Ting and then had to open this morning. I think I got two hours of sleep."

"Well I'm glad your relationship is going well."

"Talk to Cory. Clear this up," Margot yawned again, "Festering is bad for the soul."

"I know," Shawn growled, "It's just that every time we try to talk about anything serious I end up letting him kiss me until I forget what we were fighting about."

"Stand your ground," Margot told him, "Do not take kiss for an answer."

"Okay. I'm going to walk back now and try to air out. I've been gone for a little over an hour. I don't want anyone to be worried about me. I have a little bit of a reputation for throwing a massive self-destructive freak out."

"See, I think that may just be something that comes with being from Philadelphia," Margot retorted, remembering both Shawn starving himself in her living room for four days and Cory's trip to detox.

"Har Har," Shawn replied, "Yeah. I have to go back. I give Cory another half hour of thinking I'm wandering around piss-drunk after I yelled at him and stormed out crying before his head explodes."

Margot laughed, "That's the same thing I said about you. Maybe we should be together."

"Alas, my heart belongs to another," Shawn said with just the very slightest tinge of mirth to his gravelly voice, "Thanks Margot."

"Always," Margot said, "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Shawn hung up and Margot slipped her phone back into her pocket. The blonde girl scooped all of her folded laundry back into her bag.

"Did you ever read the Once and Future King?" She asked Margot out of the blue.

"Uh… yeah?" Margot responded.

"You know the part about Guenevere being terribly cruel to Lancelot because she knew that it was going to go terribly wrong? "Wrecking the present because the future was bound to be a wreck?"

"Uh-huh?" Margot wondered where she was going with this as the girl pulled one side of her bobbed hair back behind her ear.

"I think about that part every time that I'm trying to convince myself that divorcing Cory was a good idea. At least now I know I was right huh?"

"Oh, Goddess," Margot breathed, "You're Topanga?"

"I think in this scenario I'm actually Arthur. Which I guess makes Cory Guenevere, and Shawn Lancelot," Topanga laughed tonelessly.

"I'm so sorry," Margot started, "I should learn to have a private conversation. I hear other people manage it all the time," she stared guiltily at Topanga, "Umm… do you want to come up to my apartment for Christmas cookies?"

"Actually, yeah I would," Topanga replied, sounding as surprised as Margot was that she was inviting a stranger, who's personal life she knew way to much about, up to her apartment.

"Great. Okay. Let's uh- wait," Margot pulled open the dryer and picked out her two remaining bras, "I'll just hang these over the radiator. Let's go."

* * *

Shawn's seventh cigarette hissed as he dropped it in the snow and ground it under his heel. He kicked at it despondently and took a steadying breath that caught in his tar coated lungs. He braced himself against his knees as he hacked deeply. When he finally caught his breath and looked up Mr. Feeny was waving at him from his car.

"You look like you need a ride," Feeny called to him.

"No, it's okay Mr. Feeny I can walk home," Shawn told him, reluctant to give up his precious fuming time.

"Come on, hop in. It's a long walk back from here. Especially in the dark."

Shawn had to concede that he was cold. He'd been gone for a long time and had lost all the feeling in his hands and most of the feeling in his legs. He climbed into Feeny's car.

"Thanks Mr. Feeny."

"Oh it's no trouble. So have you been? How is New York?"

Shawn ran through the same story he kept telling everyone, the apartment, the coffee shop, Margot, favorite New York haunts.

"When did you start smoking?" Feeny asked disapprovingly.

"Do I smell that bad?" Shawn tried to sniff his coat sleeves.

"There is a distinct chain smoker aroma about you," Feeny replied.

"Great. Pretty much around the time Cory and Topanga split," Shawn wondered for a moment if Feeny had heard about that or not. Oh, the things Feeny didn't know that Shawn could tell him now, "It wasn't exactly a good time."

"How is Cory?" Feeny asked cautiously, "I heard about the divorce. Never would have seen it coming."

"Yeah. Me neither," Shawn replied, "Cory's… been really off."

"I suppose that's to be expected," Feeny agreed.

"I guess," Shawn agreed, "But he just hasn't been Cory. He's got this whole crazy guilt thing going on. He's started lying to me. A lot. Lately."

"Oh dear."

"We went out the other- out to the bar the other night and ran into one of his co-workers and he just sat there trying not to get caught in a lie. And I can't even figure out why, but he told his parents that I'm dating Margot which is not how that story goes."

"Hmmm… that doesn't sound like Cory," Feeny mused, "You know Mr. Hunter, I was engaged once before I married my first wife. Beautiful girl. Alison Stewart. We were together for 2 years and I was sure she was the one, and that we were going to be forever. About 6 months into the engagement she got cold feet, panicked, and left for New York overnight. She didn't leave a phone number, she didn't give anyone an address. She just disappeared."

"Yikes."

"Yikes is right. I was utterly heartbroken. I spent two weeks in my pajamas and then went through this string of terrible rebound type relationships. I even took up smoking," Feeny shook his head, "There's nothing worse than loving someone who used to love you, Shawn."

"Yeah," Shawn agreed, feeling his throat tighten.

"But eventually I worked it out of my system. I'm sure Cory will be fine. And after all he has you. I've seen you two stick together through more things than high school friendships usually withstand. I'm sure you'll be fine."

They pulled up to the Matthew's house, "Merry Christmas, Shawn."

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Feeny," Shawn replied, climbing out of the car. He tried to clear the cigarette ick out of his throat as he walked up to the front door, and tried to get the phrase "terrible rebound type relationships" out of his head. To no avail.

"Hey Shawn," Alan called when Shawn walked in. He was watching  _Holiday Inn_  with Eric. "We were starting to get worried. Where did you take off to?"

"I was just antsy after all that time sitting on the train. Thought I'd get some fresh air. Then the girlfriend called and I sort of lost track of time," Shawn shrugged awkwardly, "Sorry, I didn't think I'd worry anyone."

"It's fine. You want to watch old Christmas movies with us?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Give me a couple of minutes though," Shawn realized that his luggage was no longer sitting in front of the door, "Oh, I was going to grab my luggage. Mrs. Matthews didn't take it down did she?"

"No I think Cory grabbed it," Alan said, "He went upstairs to take a nap and came back down because he said Eric was snoring. He might be asleep down in your room."

"Oh. Shawn answered, "Okay. Great."

The door to the basement was in the living room, making Shawn's room and Cory's room as far apart as it was possible to be while still being in the same house. Shawn was perfectly okay with this at the moment and wished Cory'd had the decency to stay on his own side.

Cory was spread eagled on Shawn's bed, staring up at the ceiling. He jumped up when he heard the door creak open.

"Shawnie?"

"Yeah. I'm back," Shawn sighed as he walked in and started pulling off his coat. Cory bolted over to him and grabbed him under the arms, squeezing him tightly around the chest.

"Shawnie, I am so sorry. I am so so sorry and I should've… have you been smoking?"

Cory realized that Shawn hadn't hugged him back and awkwardly loosened his hold.

"Yeah, well," Shawn said throwing his suitcase up onto the bed and unzipping it, "My girlfriend smokes, so it's not like I've got anyone to keep my breath fresh for right?"

"Shawn I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Cory bounded over to Shawn and laid a hand on his back as Shawn dug clean clothes and a toothbrush out of his suitcase, "I'll make it up to you okay? Tell me how to make it up to you."

Cory tried to place a hand on the side of Shawn's face and pull him in for a kiss, but Shawn pulled away from him and Cory wound up brushing his lips into Shawn's ear.

"Jesus, Cory," Shawn snarled, "Just stop for once okay? Every time you feel a fight coming on you do this. Just cut it out."

Cory recoiled and stood away from the bed, his hands folded in front of him, as Shawn went over to the little sink and started brushing his teeth.

"I should have told you that I didn't tell them. I know. I'm so so sorry. But you just… you don't know what it's like," Cory's voice was getting more and more strained.

Shawn spit into the sink, "You're right Cory, I don't. Cause I don't have parents. I don't have any siblings that I can talk to without a couple months of hang time.  _I_  have  _you_. That's  _it_. And you know that." Shawn felt his voice get away from him and sink back into the gravelly register he'd hit earlier. He'd been doing so well. He stepped back to the bed and pulled off his shirt, "And for the record? I wrote to Jack about you."

Cory stared shamefacedly at the floor. He coughed and looked back up at Shawn, "Where did you go on your walk?"

Shawn undid his belt more slowly than strictly necessary and, wondering just what in the hell he thought he was doing, began tugging his jeans casually down around his ankles. He stepped out of them vindictively, watching Cory shuffled his feet uncomfortably, "Bought cigarettes. Called Margot. Ran into Feeny. He gave me a ride back."

Shawn considered changing his boxers while he was at it. He wondered just how much he could get Cory to freak out just by standing naked in front of him. Shawn sighed. He was entitled to a little childishness right now, but this might be crossing into vicious.

"What did you and Feeny talk about?"

"You," Shawn said pulling a nicotine free shirt over his head.

Cory blanched but had the sense not to ask anything. Shawn didn't bother to clarify. Maybe just a little viciousness. He pulled on a clean pair of jeans and threaded his belt through them.

"Your mom keeps the washing machine down here right?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah, behind the door on the other side of the stairs," Cory replied. Shawn saw his Adam's apple bob, "Shawn please yell at me. I know you're upset. Just… yell at me."

"No!" Shawn yelled, squeezed his eyes tight, and laboriously brought his voice back down, "Cory, I've spent the last two months forgiving everything you do that hurts me, with the fact that you told your family about me," Shawn swallowed hard, he wasn't going to get through this without tears, "Do you get that? Every time you get sketchy around me when we go out, every time you yank your hand away from me, every time you push me off of a couch. Every time- I tell myself that it's okay because you wanted your family to know about me. And you just pulled it out from under me."

"Shawn…" There was a tear running down Cory's cheek, "Shawn… I," He took a couple steps toward Shawn, reached his arms out toward him and thought better of it, "You're my best friend and I love you."

"No," Shawn's voice cracked, "I'm your dirty little secret, and you're ashamed of me."

He cleared his throat and returned to the sink. He splashed cold water on his face, and took great care not to look at Cory while he dried it.

"No, no, no," Cory murmured, "Shawn, talk to me."

"Cory, I'm too upset with you to talk about his okay?" Shawn told him, "I'm going to go upstairs and watch nice Christmas movies with your blissfully ignorant family."

A heavy silence clanked around them.

"Can I come?" Cory quavered eventually.

"I don't care what you do right now Cory. Just don't talk to me for a while," Shawn grabbed his smoky clothes off the bed and went to the laundry room. He threw them in the washer, threw some detergent in and gripped the cold sides tight. He fought a sob back down, waited to see if it was coming back, and walked upstairs.

"Hey, you made it in time for the best part," Alan hailed him. Shawn sank into the arm chair, unable to concentrate on the movie. After about 15 minutes, Cory wandered upstairs, eyes red rimmed and sank into the chair opposite Shawn. Neither looked at the other and when the movie ended both went to their rooms. Shawn had the privacy to cry himself to sleep. Cory had to wait until Eric fell asleep to sneak out to the patio and sob out there where he wouldn't disturb anyone.

Or rather, where he thought he wouldn't disturb anyone.

"Cory? Is everything alright?" Feeny asked in concern, wandering outside in his coat and slippers.

Cory hiccupped, wiped his eyes hurriedly on his coat sleeve and looked up.

"You know what I really could have used a class on Mr. Feeny?"

Feeny shook his head.

"Not Fucking Up All of Your Relationships 101," Cory wiped his nose, "There's an expensive textbook huh?"

"Cory…" Feeny started.

" I don't think you can even give me any advice on this Feeny. I'm just… I'm just a screw up. I hurt everyone around me, the more important they are the more I hurt them, and then I'm surprised when they get upset," Cory buried his face in his hands again, "When did I get to be like this?"

"Cory, the end of a long term relationship is extremely hard, and as long as you and Miss Lawrence were together… I wouldn't be surprised to still be feeling the effects of this if I were you."

Cory didn't answer, he just sniffled from his hands again.

"My ankles are getting frostbit out here, but I told Shawn a story about my experience with sudden heartbreak. Maybe he could relate it to you."

Cory pulled his head back up, "Shawn is not speaking to me right now. He's really pissed that I lied to him and told my parents that he was dating Margot."

"Right. He did mention that whole situation when I drove him home this evening," Feeny said.

Cory stared at him, "Oh. So he told you about-" Cory just couldn't get himself to say it, "Margot huh?"

"Yes. Not in much detail, but he mentioned it. He did seem upset."

Cory dropped his head back into his hands, "I am such a bastard. I am  _such_  a  _bastard_. And I bet Shawn told Margot and she's pissed at me too. God!" Cory squeezed his temples, "I'm surprised Shawn hasn't taken a swing at me yet. Or that Topanga hasn't called to tell my parents the truth," Cory sobbed into his hands again and quickly tried to stifle it.

"Margot was involved in… the situation with Topanga?" Feeny asked, an awful confusion beginning to dawn on him.

"I guess, I mean, she stayed over a couple times," Cory croaked. He didn't want to be out here with Feeny like this. He was a mess and he wanted to be alone, "I'm going to go in, Mr. Feeny. Before you get frostbit ankles," Cory stood and wiped his face with his freezing wet sleeve, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mr. Matthews."

Cory went back into the kitchen and dug out the Tupperware of Christmas cookies. He felt exposed but strangely satisfied that Shawn had gotten to take a little deserved revenge out on him by telling Feeny that he and Shawn were together. Cory had been holding onto an almost masochistic hope that if someone were to accidently find out about him and Shawn that he might be able to work up the courage to… tell people. But Feeny knowing didn't seem to have changed any of Cory's reservations. Cory took a handful of Christmas cookies out to the front door where he could cry in peace.


	5. Snow At Lovers' Lane

The snow had been coming down harder and harder all night. Cory and Shawn had been parked in the old lover's lane for twenty minutes and the windows were completely covered, the heavy wet snow sticking even to the side windows.

"This is where you're taking me?" Shawn had snapped when Cory took the all-too-familiar turn, "Nice try Matthews."

It had been a long, awkward, ugly day. Cory had gotten no sleep and had gotten out of bed as soon as he heard his parents pull out of the garage. He'd been watching cartoons on the couch for about an hour when Shawn had come up from the basement, freshly showered, already dressed and cleanly shaven. They'd spent the entire day avoiding each other.

Morgan had gotten home in the afternoon but hadn't proven much of a distraction. She'd run directly up to her room to call a boy from camp and then called a female friend to go over the conversation line by line and voice inflection by voice inflection. Cory had helped Eric make some sort of Turkish spinach pie for supper, hoping it would help him distract himself, but Eric had turned to Cory as they set the table and said, "Dude, what's going on with you and Shawn? He's acting like you just dumped him on prom night," and Cory had resolved to fix this fight before the sun came up.

Amy and Alan weren't thrilled about handing the keys over to Cory. It was the night before Christmas Eve, the snow was supposed to be bad, and Cory had been acting so strangely lately, but he'd been insistent.

Now here he and Shawn sat, with the windows getting whiter and whiter.

They sat in silence in the car for a while, and then Cory crawled into the back seat.

"What do you think you're doing?" Shawn demanded.

"It's more comfortable back here," Cory said pulling one of the blankets out from under the seats and wrapping it around his legs.

"I think I'll stay up here," Shawn scoffed.

The silence descended again.

"Why did you take me out here?" Shawn asked eventually.

"Cage match," Cory replied, "This is how we work. One of us messes up and the other harps on him until it's better. I'm the screw up this time. Harp on me."

Shawn didn't say anything.

"I should have told them, Shawn. I'm sorry. Again."

"Why didn't you?" Shawn sighed, "What are you so afraid of? You never talk about this. Even you and I don't talk about this."

"I know."

"What's the worst thing that could happen if someone found out? If anyone but Margot and Agnes and John knew?"

"I don't know," Cory replied, "What happened when you told Feeny?"

"I didn't tell Feeny."

"Oh…"

It was like the snow absorbed all of the little sounds and made the silence even heavier.

"Maybe this whole thing was a mistake," Shawn finally managed.

"Shawnie-"

"No. I mean it. We never used to fight like this. We never used to lie to each other. Maybe we fucked up 22 years of friendship over a stupid idea."

"Shawn I want to be with you."

"Why should I believe you?" Shawn asked. He almost looked back at Cory, but decided he wouldn't be able to, "Do you realized that you haven't touched me in public since the first time you kissed me? Even before this we touched. You'd hug me or throw your arm around me or something. You don't even do that anymore."

"Shawn… it's…" Cory rubbed his fingers across his scalp, "Okay- I'm…I'm Cory Matthews: Nice Boy next door. I'm the All-American Everyman you know?"

"Okay."

"And I always have been and… to be with you… I have to give that up."

Shawn stared quietly at the blank white of the window.

"Shawnie, when we go out to the bar we're just two guys at the bar right?" Cory picked agitatedly at his fingernails as he spoke, "But if I hold you, if I kiss you, then we become this demographic, this label. Right? We're..." it took Cory a second to get the next part out, "We're the gay guys at the bar. And I'm just having trouble… with the fact that being with you puts me in this box."

"Cause I'm not worth it," Shawn whispered, not turning from the white window, but the light from the dials on the dashboard created a creepy green reflection of Shawn's face in the window.

"What?" Cory asked.

"Because I'm not worth it," Shawn repeated, his voice strained.

"Is that what you think?" Cory breathed. He sat up and grabbed Shawn's shoulder. Shawn just nodded mutely, "No no no… Shawnie, it's …." Cory petered out, and took his hand away from Shawn, not sure how to articulate this huge horrible wad of things he needed Shawn to know. Finally Cory managed a strangled whisper, "I never…. looked at… you know, guys, in high school. Or college. I never… I still… see girls sometimes, now. I just… I don't want to have this label… when I really don't know if… I'm… this thing."

"So what are you doing with me then?"

"What?" Cory asked.

"What are you doing with me if you don't want to be the gay guy in the bar?" Shawn demanded.

"That's not what I said Shawn. I never said I didn't want to be with you!"

Shawn growled and turned in his seat. Cory pulled back from him and Shawn crawled into the backseat, wedging himself against the window opposite Cory, "Yes you did, Cory. What else is "I don't want this label" supposed to mean?"

"I'm confused about  _me_  Shawn. I  _not_  confused about  _you_. I  _want_  you. I needed to bring you out here tonight to figure out how to make this whole thing up to you because when Eric told me that he thought you were acting like I'd dumped you I felt like my lungs had popped!"

Shawn stared at him for a while, then turned his head to the window and shivered. Cory tossed the blanket over him.

"I never looked at guys either Cory," Shawn said, crumpling the blanket up in his hands slowly as he spoke, "And I don't look at them now. I don't even look at girls anymore because I'm so damn in love with you," Shawn buried his face in his knees in embarrassment, "When this whole thing with you actually happened…I thought I was finally hitting safe harbor. Shelter from the Storm you know? I mean… dating you? I didn't think you'd be able to do any of these things to me, I thought we'd just… be happy," he sniffed, "But I'm your roommate. An old high school friend from Brooklyn."

"Shawnie," Cory murmured, grabbing Shawn's feet, then his ankles, "Shawnie."

"You could just drop me," Shawn continued, "You could stay with Eric, grovel to Topanga. You won't touch me, and she'd probably forgive you for just kissing me. You could just leave me and no one would ever know."

"Shawnie," Cory crawled across the seat and gripped Shawn's knees, white knuckled, "Shawnie, I…" Cory couldn't believe he'd done this to Shawn, after watching and hating every person that had done this to Shawn, year after year, he'd done it too and he hated himself for it, "I'm not going to leave. I'm never going to leave," Cory felt tears sliding down his cheeks, "If you want to go home and tell my parents and Eric right now I'll do it. Then I'll go next door and tell Feeny and then I'll call Topanga and tell her officially. I'll go into work and make an announcement when we get back. I'll go downtown and start shouting on street corners. Anything. Anything-"

Cory was cut off by a loud rap at the window. Some of the snow at the top of the window fell down, making a flashlight and a gloved hand just visible through the sliver of clear glass.

"Philadelphia PD," A voice thundered outside the door, "Please open your door,"

Shawn yanked his head up off his knees and looked wide-eyed at Cory. This had never happened to him all the way out here before. That's what lover's lane was  _for_.

Cory pulled his hands off of Shawn's knees, cleared his throat and carefully opened the door. A police officer in a heavy black coat stood outside holding his flashlight down toward the ground and not looking directly into the car.

"Everybody decent?" He asked.

"Yes officer," Cory replied, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"Look I know we don't do nothing about it in the summer, but this here  _is_  private property, and you  _are_  trespassing so why don't you kids go back home to your families, okay? It's almost Christmas."

"Yes officer, we will," Cory replied.

The officer swung the flashlight up into Cory's face, so that all Cory could see was a bright light with a shadowy police hat floating somewhere behind and above it.

"Baboon?"

The voice behind the flashlight sounded shocked and confused but not as confused at Cory.

"Johnny Baboon, is that you?"

It clicked for Shawn before it clicked for Cory and he scooted forward into the flashlight beam, wanting to see for himself, "Harley Keiner?"

The flashlight lowered and both Cory and Shawn could just barely make out a shadowy figure while their eyes adjusted.

"Baboon and Hunter! Yeah, Harley Keiner, from John Adams! Hey, you remember!" Cory and Shawn could just make out the big grin on his face.

"Yeah, of course we remember you," Cory laughed awkwardly, "You're… a cop."

"Yeah, yeah," Harley laughed, "A couple of years now. You'd never would've expected it huh?"

"No," Cory and Shawn agreed immediately

"Yeah, not after all those times I threatened to pummel you two in high school, huh?" He laughed.

"Yeah," Cory and Shawn agreed together, joining his laugh awkwardly.

"Well, I met a girl. She made an honest man of me. Now I got a little boy to make proud of me you know," Harley dug out his wallet, and flipped it open, "Ain't they beautiful?"

Smiling out of the picture was a slightly pudgier Harley than they remembered from high school, but with his hair still exactly the same, sitting with a rosy cheeked blonde, who, despite the fact that her hair-do seemed to be from the same decade as Harley's, really was beautiful. A little boy, maybe 2 or 3, stood on Harley's lap with his arms stretched high, the little bit of blond fuzz on his head parted on the side and slicked back, just like his fathers.

"Yeah, Harley," Shawn agreed, "The really are."

Harley smiled at the picture serenely, "Yeah. All you need is love right?" he flipped his wallet shut and slid back into his coat pocket, "So how about you guys, you found anyone special since high school?"

Cory froze, looking up at Harley, Shawn tried as hard as he could not to look at Cory out of the corner of his eye.

"Um.." Cory responded, Shawn bit his lip.

"Yeah, yeah I did," Cory said, shakily. Shawn looked up at him in shock as Cory threw his arm around Shawn's shoulders, "I'm a lucky man."

Shawn turned, with some horror to Harley, who, to Shawn's great shock, grinned his huge grin, "You know Frankie always said he thought you two was perfect for each other," he wagged his finger at them, "So you two is up here  _together_ huh?"

"Yep. Together," Shawn replied, "That's us."

"Tell you what," Harley rested one arm on the roof of the car and leaned down conspiratorially, "The old man that owns this property called in to have someone check out a car that he saw drive into this field, but he can't actually see this field out here from his windows. I'll go knock on his door and tell him I sent a couple of teenagers off, and then you two won't have no more interruptions okay?"

"Umm… sure," Cory replied absolutely shocked, "Yeah. Yes. Thank you."

Harley smiled again and wrapped on the roof of the car, "Okay. Merry Christmas Hunter. Baboon."

"Merry Christmas," Shawn and Cory called after Harley as he walked off toward his cruiser.

Cory shut the door and he and Shawn sat in stunned silence for several minutes. Shawn started to giggle, Cory joined too and soon both of them were laughing uncontrollably. When they caught their breath Shawn rested a hand on Cory's thigh.

"You did it," He said breathlessly, "You actually told someone."

"Yeah. The guy that used to terrify me down to the soles of my shoes no less," Cory sighed, "I mean it Shawn. I should've known what this meant to you, I'm your best friend," Cory put his hand over Shawn's, "You're my boyfriend now, and I should have understood this before. And now I'll tell everyone, Shawn. About the person I'm never going to leave," he looked through the window the Harley had rapped on, "Even if they don't all take it as well as Harley Keiner."

He turned his face back to Shawn's and Shawn was already kissing him before he could say anything else. Shawn started unzipped Cory's coat, pulled him out of it and tossed it to the floor, Cory pulled Shawn out of his coat, grabbed the blanket next to them and threw it around Shawn.

"Shawn?" Cory asked between kisses.

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready to tell them. Do you want to go right now?"

"No," Shawn breathed, "I'm kissing you right now."

"Great," Cory smiled, "Cause I've never made out in a car before."

Shawn giggled and climbed on top of Cory, straddling him and pulling the blanket around them both even as the windows began to fog, making them even more opaque.

"Shawn?" Cory quavered again.

"Yeah?"

"Harley Keiner's a cop."

"I know," Shawn laughed, "We stay in this town too long we're going to find out that Joey the Rat's a banker and Frankie the enforcer is installing security systems."

They laughed again and kept kissing, neither of them able to hear past the rushing of blood and relief, the quiet buzzing of Cory's phone from Cory's coat pocket on the floor of the car.

 


	6. Waiting For An Answer

"No answer," Alan sighed, hanging the kitchen phone back onto the hook.

"It's really coming down out there," Amy sighed from the kitchen table, "They've been gone a couple of hours."

"I'm sure they're fine."

"Where did Cory say they were going?" Amy asked.

"He didn't mention it."

Amy and Alan sat in silence at their kitchen table, watching the snow fall across the window like white curtain. Suddenly, out of the whiteness Eric appeared in the glass of the window and walked in, shaking snow out of his hair and brushing it off his sweater.

"And this is just from walking over from next door," He laughed.

"Did you have a good visit with Mr. Feeny?" Amy asked.

"Yeah. Nothing like some quality mentor time you know?" Eric stomped his shoes on the rug, realized how little it would help, and began untying them.

"Good."

"What's up with you two?" Eric asked as he toed his shoes off.

"Cory and Shawn are still out in this," Amy waved toward the window, "Cory's not answering his phone."

"He forgets to charge it a lot," Eric offered as he pulled a chair up at the kitchen table.

"Eric, Cory and Shawn haven't said anything to you about why they're so… weird have they?" Amy asked.

"Me?" Eric scoffed, "I didn't even know that Cory and Topanga were getting divorced until Feeny told me. I didn't think I should ask Cory anything about it on the train."

"Has Mr. Feeny talked to either of them at all?" Alan asked.

"Yeah," Eric got up from the table and poured himself a mug of water, "Feeny asked me if they were okay too, actually. He said he picked Shawn up from the gas station yesterday and that Shawn said that he and Cory weren't talking because Cory told you guys that Shawn has a girlfriend when he doesn't."

"Wait, Cory lied to us about Shawn's girlfriend?" Amy demanded.

"I guess," Eric shrugged, "And then Feeny found Cory outside on the porch last night in tears talking about how he keeps hurting people and ruining all of his relationships."

"Cory said he was hurting people?" Amy repeated.

"That's what Feeny told me."

"Was this about Topanga?" Amy asked.

"Feeny didn't think so. He thought it was probably about this girlfriend girl. I'll be right back, I've got fancy tea in my bag," He paused on the first step upstairs, "Do you guys want some?"

Amy and Alan nodded and Eric bounded up the stairs.

"Why would Cory and Shawn fight about a girl?" Amy demanded of her husband, who had already asked himself this question and come up with an answer that he didn't like.

"You don't think this Margot girl had anything to do with Cory and Topanga splitting up?" Alan asked Amy quietly.

"No," Amy responded immediately, "I don't believe it. Absolutely not," Her voice dropped to a hiss, "Cory did not  _cheat on_  Topanga."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Alan said slowly, "There was that Lauren girl from the ski trip."

"I am not hearing this," Amy said, "I am thinking happy baby Jesus thoughts, and they are drowning all of this out."

"Well, Cory and Topanga didn't get a divorce on some bizarre whim. And something strange is going on between Shawn and Cory. And it  _started_  after we asked about Margot."

"But if Cory was… interested in this Margot girl why would he tell us that Shawn was dating her?" Amy demanded.

Alan hesitated for a moment before answering in a low voice, "Maybe he was."

Amy scoffed in disgust, "Alan! Have you even met out son? It's not even possible that he cheated on Topanga or stole a girl from Shawn!"

"New York City does weird things to people," Alan asserted.

Eric came back down the stairs.

"Blueberry Green or Pomegranate Black?"

* * *

Making out in a car was clearly an acquired skill Cory thought. If he moved too far in either direction he got seat belt buckles in uncomfortable places and it was nearly impossible to shift position without some discussion between, and cooperation from, both parties. But mostly it was cold. The vinyl seat against Cory's bare back was chilly. Shawn sat astride Cory's legs, his hands clenching Cory's shoulders, pulling his body as tightly to Cory's as he could while he kissed him fervently. The two of them were doing their best to keep the back seat blanket around themselves. It wasn't working all that well. No wonder Lover's Lane was not a winter destination.

Shawn's back burned against Cory's frigid fingers as he ran his hands over Shawn's shoulders and along his spine, accidently brushing the blanket off of Shawn's shoulders and down over his own knees again. Cory felt Shawn shudder against him. Shawn released Cory's shoulders, but instead of reaching for the blanket, Cory felt one cold thumb tuck under his waistband as Shawn undid the button of his fly.

Cory grabbed Shawn's hand in both of his own before Shawn could grab the zipper tab.

"Shawn?"

"Yeah Cor?"

It was incredible how Shawn could manage to pant disappointedly.

"The reason I don't touch you is because I don't know how," Cory expelled all in one shallow breath.

"What?"

"Shawn- I remember your stories about girls in high school-Rosa Peresta and Four Blow Job Friday? Kat Jenkins who wore all of those rings?"

"How do you remember that?" Shawn was astonished, "I barely remember that."

"Look, it's just- You'd tell me those stories, and I'd tell you about baking with Topanga and worrying about dying a virgin. I mean,  _we've got cable_ , I know what we could do together, but I know how to do  _one thing_ , and it's not really on the menu here," Cory let go of Shawn's hand and gestured helplessly in the very small space between their two bodies.

"Cor…" Shawn smiled and kissed him, "Cor, Cor," He laughed and kissed him again, working his way from Cory's lips to his neck, "I don't care. I don't care. Come on, we can take it slow. Maybe I'll teach you something."

It sounded like a bad porn line, even as Shawn said it, but Cory returned the kiss to Shawn's neck and said, breathily, "Okay."

"Okay," Shawn's hand returned to the zipper, and pulled it down slowly. As he carefully peeled Cory's jeans open, Cory grabbed his hands again.

"Shawn?"

"You're really killing me here Cor." Shawn responded gently.

"No, you can keep going it's just-" Cory licked his lips, "Before… I want… I'm in love with you too. You know that right?"

Shawn just kissed him and tugged Cory's jeans off of his hips.

* * *

Topanga finished wrapping the string of icicle lights around the tiny fake Christmas tree that she'd bought for her borrowed apartment today. She turned off the living room's ugly overhead light and plugged in the tree. It was so small that the lights all lapped over one another, creating less of a draped look and more of a big shiny white Christmas cone look. Topanga tried to pretend that the light it cast across the dark apartment was cozy. She took the bottle of wine from the coffee table and refreshed her glass.

"Merry fucking Christmas," She sighed taking a deep gulp. Both of the friends that she was staying with had gone home for Christmas yesterday, one to Boston, the other to Arizona. Topanga had opted to just stay alone in the apartment, watering the plants and eating the leftovers rather than choose between which of her parents would spend what wasn't going to be a good holiday anyway, telling her all about their experience with divorce.

She wondered if her parents be more disappointed in her for quitting the internship or about the divorce. She hadn't mentioned either and after a couple of months keeping them out of the loop for a few more weeks wouldn't matter. Of course she'd only talked to either of them once in the last couple of months anyway.

Topanga eyed the two presents under the tree. One was from the Matthews and had come in the mail earlier in the week and the other she'd bought for herself on the way home from work . It was a box of chocolates. She'd hoped that a tree and lights and a couple presents might make her feel Christmasy, but it hadn't worked. She took the staged present out from under the tree, tore the paper off, pretended to be surprised at the contents, and popped a strawberry nougat into her mouth. There was a knock at the door.

"It's open!" Topanga yelled thickly through her nougat

Margot popped her head in the door.

"Hey."

"Hey, Margot right?" Topanga replied, "Come on in."

"Oh you've got a little Christmas tree! That's nice," Margot said, a touch too cheerfully.

"Can I help you with something?" Topanga asked, she hadn't talked to Margot since the other day in the laundry room.

"I was just on my way back from the vending machine and I thought I'd, you know, see what you were up…" Margot sighed, "I'm not good at subtlety or white lies. I saw Jessica and Mackenzie leave the other day and I thought you were probably in here by yourself, so I came over to talk you into coming over to my place. Me and a couple of people from work are having a general winter associated holiday celebration and I've already made them all promise to pretend that none of us know Cory and Shawn if you come over. We're gonna make Graham Cracker houses. It'll be fun."

Topanga looked at her sad little tree.

"You know? That does sound like fun."

Margot grinned, "Awesome."

* * *

Cory's breath caught as Shawn slid off of him, pulling Cory's jean's along with him until Cory felt the shock of cold air on his calves. Shawn threw his own pants and boxers over Cory's on the car floor and climbed back on top of Cory, his newly exposed flesh hot and hard against Cory's. He pulled the blanket around them again and leaned his face to Cory, giving him a deep, languorous kiss before moving to Cory's cheek, his temple, his ear, his neck.

"Sure?" Shawn murmured.

"Yes."

Shawn kissed Cory's neck again, and licked his palm.

When recollections of this night popped up in Cory's daydreams over the next few weeks, it was with a small secret smile every time as he remembered the way each of Shawn's breaths burned hotter against his ear than the last, the way Cory could feel himself getting harder and harder in Shawn's hands, the way every time the blanket flapped with the rhythm of Shawn's arm, tendrils of cold air whipped across Cory's shoulders and chest, creeping all the way down to his legs, making Shawn's body even warmer in contrast.

When Cory took Shawn in his own hands, he'd never forget the sound of Shawn's sharp intake of breath, or the tiny grateful whisper of "God!" that would've been inaudible if Shawn's lips hadn't been pressed to Cory's ear, or the small noises that Shawn made in the back of his throat when Cory touched him  _just there_  or  _just like that._ Shawn sank his teeth into Cory's shoulder as he came, and Cory didn't outlast him by much.

Cory didn't realize that a hand job in the back of his parents car certainly lacked the romance factor that he'd felt like a first time with Shawn deserved, until after Shawn had grabbed a handful of Kleenexes and they'd wiped themselves off, then awkwardly repositioned themselves so that Shawn could lay with his back against Cory, Cory's arms around him. The snowed-over window was cold against Cory's neck, the door handle dug into his back and their stocking feet hung out of the bottom of the blanket. They shivered for a little bit before giving up and putting all of their clothes, their coats and shoes back on.

They should've done something more, or better, or gone somewhere besides just out here to fight, Cory thought. They should at least have done this somewhere where Cory wouldn't have smacked his head against a car window hard enough that it still hurt, but these thoughts were hard to hold onto when Cory could feel Shawn's deep satisfied breathing against his well insulated arms and stomach and feel Shawn's refrozen fingers tracing half formed patterns across his knuckles.

"We should go home before we fall asleep and freeze to death," Cory mumbled. Shawn shuffled off of him and they opened the side doors, a double blast of frigid air hitting them as they stepped outside. The snow had stopped falling, the warm orange light that gets trapped between snow and clouds gave the night a held-in-close feeling. Cory turned the key in the ignition and they let the engine heat up as they brushed the snow off of all the windows, letting their fingers run over each other in the middle of the windows.

Despite the less than romantic circumstances of the night, Cory found himself floating along in a feeling not unlike honeymoon delirium, kissing Shawn again before he put the car into drive, entwining their fingers at every stop sign and stop light for the whole drive home.

* * *

Eric talked to Amy and Alan over tea. They complained about how Morgan, who was still up in her room, was becoming a moody teenager in earnest. Eric told them that he had talked to Feeny about how to get internships at some of the TV places in New York and that Feeny had offered to write letters of recommendation, or provide references. When Eric got down to his dregs he excused himself to the bathroom and Amy and Alan immediately fell back to their interrupted conversation, arguing the issue back and forth before Amy finally gave up.

"I'm going to call Topanga," she announced as Eric walked back into the room.

"Amy-"

"It's not that late, I'm not going to bring it up, I'm just calling to check on her, on the night before Christmas Eve, and if maybe it comes up… then she's got it off of her chest."

"Amy-"

"Alan."

"I'll do it," Eric pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"No, see that is not a good idea," Alan made a grab for his son's phone but Eric just ducked out of his way.

"No it's cool, I have to talk to her anyway," Eric said.

"Eric!" Amy hissed, but Topanga had picked up. And Amy and Alan just listened in horror to Eric's side of the conversation.

"Pangers!- Umm… Couple reasons I'm calling actually. First I'm sorry about the big Dee-vorce. I just heard- Yeah. Really. What happened?"

Amy and Alan stared. But while Eric wasn't subtle, he did have some weird element to his personality that allowed him to ask awkward question without making people  _feel_  awkward.

"I'm sorry Pangy. Really.-Well the main reason I'm calling though is that because I just found out about this, I brought your present here to Philly, but I mailed it to you- Cause it's Christmas. You of all people need Christmas presents this year- I asked Cory for the address-I don't know. It's a surprise! It's should probably come in tomorrow though-Yeah, you're welcome. I have one last thing, and this might be a little weird, but my girlfriend is having a party tonight, and if you're looking for somewhere to go she'd be totally cool if you just showed up, but if you want I'll call her and have her go invite you-My girlfriend? Margot in 219."

Eric seemed to be waiting for Topanga to reply, "So, do you want me to call her?-Oh. You're already there? Great!- Could you tell her that I'll give her a call a little later? My parents are giving me a hell of a weird look- yeah. Bye Pangers."

"What?" Eric asked. As his parents continued to stare he realized what the origin of the look must be, "Oh, Topanga said that Cory was in love with someone else. I didn't ask who."

* * *

Cory and Shawn walked, fingers entwined between them, into the dark kitchen.

"I guess everyone went to sleep," Cory whispered, "Why don't I go get my stuff and move it downstairs?"

"Kay."

Cory was gone all of a couple minutes before Shawn heard him thumping down the staircase with his suitcase. Shawn ran up the stairs to help Cory carry it down to the kitchen. Neither of them expected the lights to be on in the living room when Shawn opened the door for Cory.

Alan, Amy and Eric were all sitting in the living room watching TV with a palpable tension. Eric was giving Cory a very appraising look.

"Hey… everybody," Cory greeted them with a false nonchalance, "What's going on?"

"Did you get any of our phone calls?" Amy asked, "The weather was terrible. We were worried."

"We uh, waited out the storm," Shawn said.

"Uh-huh," Alan said, not bothering to hide his disbelief in the least, "Where?"

"Downtown" Cory answered at the same time Shawn answered "Uptown."

Alan and Amy nodded as though they'd expected that and Eric didn't moderate his glare.

"Cory," Amy started with a sigh, "You leave the house in a blizzard, you don't answer your phone, you lie to us about where you're going, and that's just today. What is going on?"

"What's going on?" Cory repeated.

"And what happened between you and Margot!" Eric demanded.

"Wait," Cory stopped, "Me and Margot?"

"Yeah, I want some answers on that buddy."

"We know you lied about Margot," Amy said, "We know she wasn't dating Shawn."

"How?"

"That's what I told Feeny about, that you lied about Margot," Shawn said quietly from behind Cory and Cory could feel the fear and expectation radiating from him.

"And Topanga told me that you fell in love with someone else," Eric chimed in.

"And that," Alan agreed, "So really Cory, I'm starting to wonder why all these lies surrounding this divorce are about this one girl, you know what I mean? What exactly was happening between you and-"

"My girlfriend!" Eric spat.

That statement dropped into a weird pause before both Shawn and Cory realized what Eric had just said.

"Wait,  _You're_  Ting?" They both demanded.

"Yeah! And I want to know if either of you were Ting either," Eric shook his finger menacingly at them both, "Because I think I love this girl and I might have to start smacking you around."

"You've been dating for a like a week and a half," Shawn said.

"So?"

"Cory what is going on?" Amy asked.

"Fine!" Cory shouted, "Fine! I lied! I lied and lied and lied!"

"So you did cheat on Topanga with this Margot girl?" Amy asked in a strained voice.

"Cause if you did-"Eric started.

"No! I-" Cory growled, "Look no one, except apparently Eric, was dating Margot at any point okay? Shawn was never dating Margot and I did not cheat on Topanga- Topanga kissed some guy she stayed with while we were fighting. Did she tell you that?"

"Cor, that's not really fair," Shawn said carefully.

"So you're getting divorced because Topanga kissed someone else?"

"No," Cory started to shake in anticipation, "Shawn's right, that's not fair, it's not Topanga's fault, there was someone else."

"Who Cory?" Amy demanded, "Who was worth leaving Topanga for?"

Cory's mouth went too dry to speak and he just stood there, trembling, trying to get it out. Shawn gulped and put his hand on Cory's shoulder. No one reacted, and Shawn realized that this was him and Cory and it was going to take more than that. He grabbed Cory's hand in his other hand and moved closer to him.

"Jesus," Alan sighed, dropping his face into his hands.

"Oh," Amy said quietly.

Eric continued to watch the Cory and Shawn, apparently satisfied that neither of them had ever hurt his girlfriend. He turned to his parents and realized that he was missing something.

"What?" He demanded.

"Eric," Cory sighed, tilting his head back in exasperation as Shawn gripped his shoulder tighter.

"Ooohhhhhh."

Amy covered her still open mouth with her palm.

"So, yeah," Cory said, "I'm gonna move my stuff downstairs," He went for the basement door, pulling his suitcase with him, Shawn letting go of him and following.

"Now, you wait right there-" Alan started.

"Alan," Amy intoned.

"Fine," Alan snapped, "Forget it. I'm going to bed."

He left the living room and Amy followed behind him. When they'd gone Shawn pressed his forehead to Cory's back and let out a slightly tearful sigh.

"I'm sorry," He said.

"It's not your fault, it's mine," Cory said, "It shouldn't have been like this, that's all my fault."

"Yeah," Eric piped up from the couch, "I still don't get what just happened."


	7. Time

It was snowing again in the morning. Big soft peaceful flakes kissed the window panes of the tense house as Amy wrapped her robe tighter around herself and tip-toed down to the kitchen. She pulled some flour and a mixing bowl out of the cupboards, and yawned deeply as she grabbed butter out of the fridge.

She and Alan had gone straight to bed last night, put their pajamas on to the muffled sound of Eric on the phone down the hallway, and then, once the light was out, discussed the shocking revelation about their son's divorce in hushed tones so as not to wake Josh, lying peacefully in his crib.

"You shouldn't have let Cory sleep down there, Amy," Alan told her.

" _I_  didn't  _let him_  do anything Alan," Amy sighed, "And let's be _reasonable_ , they do live together. In a  _one bedroom_  apartment."

Alan let out a sigh that dragged over his teeth, "They were always a little too close. Maybe we should've… I don't know, put Cory in sports or something."

"You're right Alan. Clearly a little court time would have nipped this whole problem in the bud," Amy snapped.

"That's not how I meant it, It's just… this is a disaster."

"I know," Amy agreed, "But maybe if we just… find out more."

"I'm not sure how much more I want to know."

"Well, you know. How it happened? Why? I mean, if they are you know… gay-"

"Amy-"

"-then this was just waiting to happen, and we both know it. And something must have happened. I can't believe either of them would ever purposefully hurt Topanga. We don't know anything about her part in all of this, we don't know anything about this guy she kissed, we were completely off base about Margot-"

"We weren't supposed to have to worry about Cory anymore!" Alan cried out, "We were supposed to concentrate on Josh growing up and Morgan moving out."

"You don't get to stop being parents, Alan, you know that."

"But Cory and Topanga were settled.  _Married_. She was going to take care of him. Cory never finalized his major but Topanga had a future ahead of her. Shawn's… you know."

"What?" Amy demanded, "What is Shawn?"

"Shawn is trouble Amy. He leads the way into trouble and Cory follows."

"So this must all be Shawn's fault?"

"Well, I doubt that it's Topanga's."

Amy and her husband had argued in the same circles for a little while longer before Amy had rolled over with finality and left Alan to eventually drift off to sleep.

Amy finished mixing the biscuits, greased the pan, dropped dough onto it and popped them into the oven as Eric came yawning down the stairs, his new bangs sticking straight up over his forehead.

"Mornin' Mom," He said trying to flatten his hair down with his hand, "Coffee?"

"I was about to start some, just a second."

"I'll do it, sit down," Eric offered.

Amy sighed gratefully, pushed up her sleeves and sat down at the table as Eric pulled the coffee grounds out of the cupboard.

"So…Cory and Shawn," Eric started, "How's Dad taking that?"

"I don't know. Probably not as well as they'd hoped," Amy groaned, "What was Cory thinking? Telling us like that after disappearing all day? Lying to us? I mean he couldn't have made it more of a shock if he'd tried."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to do it like this," Eric said, "Cream?"

Amy nodded and Eric got up to grab it from the fridge.

"So, how are  _you_  taking this?" he asked.

"I just…" Amy poured cream into her coffee, "I don't understand. He was married. How did he suddenly become…. You know."

"Gay? I doubt it was sudden," Eric told her.

"Cory doesn't  _do_  change. The last big change in his life that he didn't totally freak out about was finally getting his room to himself. I just don't understand how this happened."

Eric nodded and sipped his coffee, then added more sugar.

"You don't know what happened do you?" Amy asked.

"Me?" Eric laughed, "I don't know anything."

Amy smiled and tried to flatten down her oldest sons bangs.

"Where on earth did you end up with this hair cut?" She asked.

"My roommate's boyfriend is a fancy hair dresser," Eric told her. Amy rubbed her eyes.

"When did I completely lose track of my sons? You live with a woman?"

Eric smiled and patted his mother's arm, "No," Eric laughed gently, "My roommate's name is Andy, I'm friends with one of his boyfriends, Carlisle. Carlisle is a hairdresser."

"Well," Amy sighed, "Don't tell your father right now," She sipped her coffee again, "Wait, one of?"

"It' s not how it sounds. Andy's out of town a lot. It's not like he just dates everyone."

"You're not gay too are you?" Amy asked. Eric laughed.

"No. But if that changes I'll break it to you gently."

Amy chuckled and rubbed her eyes.

"You and Dad need to talk to them," Eric said, "Last night was bad. Neither of them can handle bad very well."

The oven timer went off and Amy stood up to get the biscuits out.

"I got it," Eric said stood up, "Why don't you go get Cory and Shawn, and bring them up for breakfast?"

Amy ruffled her eldest messy hair "When did you get to be so grown up anyway?"

Eric smiled and started digging through the drawers looking for oven mitts.

Amy pulled her robe tighter around herself and walked through the living room and down to the basement. She stopped at the guest room door, raised her hand to knock and stopped. She dropped her hand back down to her waist, turned around and walked into the laundry room.

Amy picked the whites out of the hamper, tossed them into the washing machine, and started it before walking back into the small space between the laundry room door and the guest room door. She knocked quietly and waited for a response. When none came she knocked a little louder. When there was still no answer to the third knock she opened the door.

Through the tiny crack her immediate impression was a tangle of arms and flannel. She opened the door a little bit further.

Cory was lying in his side, his flannel-clad arms pulled close to his chest with Shawn's bare arms wrapped tight around him. Shawn's face was pressed to Cory's neck, his mouth hanging just the tiniest bit open.

Amy stared at them for a moment. The shock wasn't seeing them together, she realized. It was seeing how tight they were wrapped together. They looked as though they were shielding each other against the whole world. It made her wonder if she was part of it. She bit her lip, shut the door and knocked so loud it shook. After a second she heard Cory call out "Yeah! Up! What?"

Amy cleared her throat, "Can I come in?"

There was a silent moment that Amy's imagination filled with whispers and reluctant repositioning.

"Okay, sure," Cory responded.

Amy opened the door to see Cory, in the same flannel pajamas he'd been wearing since high school, and Shawn, in a worn white t-shirt and a pair of clearly just-pulled-on jeans, on opposite sides of the room, rummaging through their suitcases for clean clothes.

"I made biscuits. If you boys wanted some?"

"Thank you," Shawn replied with a strange formalness. He stopped digging through his suitcase, but didn't look up from it.

"Is Dad up?" Cory asked carefully.

"Not yet," Amy replied, "It's just me and Eric. And Morgan won't be up until 1 or 2," She chuckled awkwardly.

"Is he still," Cory started, scratching his neck, "Is he still upset?"

Amy opened her mouth to reply, but nothing except a "tch" sort of sound came out.

"Oh," Cory responded, "And Eric? He's got it figured out?"

"Yes."

Cory nodded.

"Well. Don't wait too long," Amy told them, trying to sound pleasant, "They'll get cold."

She closed the door carefully behind her.

"You know," Cory turned to Shawn, "I've heard that nothing beats Christmas in New York. If we left now we could hunt down my brother's girlfriend and have some sort of Christmas Eve party."

"The only way to make it less awkward is to stick it out," Shawn sighed, "Let them get used to us, you know?"

"Right. Good idea," Cory said, tossing a clean shirt onto the bed and pulling off his pajama top, "Let's go upstairs and make out on the couch."

"I'm sorry," Shawn told him again.

"Stop apologizing Shawn," Cory pulled on his shirt, "Of all the people who could possibly be blamed for this, you didn't even make the list."

"I think it'll be alright," Shawn said, grabbing his toothbrush, "I got a text from Margot while we were sleeping. She said she explained it to Eric, and predictably, he doesn't care. She also said "and tell Cory fuck him for not introducing me to his brother right away." She put a smiley face after it. Morgan may not come out of her room long enough to even find out about us, and your mom is trying really hard."

"And my father?"

Shawn spit and rinsed, "Maybe if we just give him some time."

Cory shrugged and walked over to the sink with his own toothbrush in hand, squeezed a dollop of toothpaste on it, ran it under the water and started brushing.

"I'm sure he'll come around," Shawn told Cory as he spit and rinsed. He wiped his mouth and pulled Shawn's forehead gently to his own.

"And if he doesn't, fuck him," Cory said.

"You don't mean that, Cory," Shawn told him, a distinct scold in his voice.

"I know I don't."

Cory sighed, kissed Shawn, and pulled away. He grabbed a sweater out of his suitcase and they walked up the stairs together.

Amy grabbed plates for each of them when they sat down at the kitchen table and Eric poured them each a cup of coffee. They ate in silence for a moment.

"So," Eric started, "Margot said you two have been together for a couple of months."

"Yeah," Cory verified, "Just about three."

"Oh," Amy commented.

Everyone took an awkward sip of coffee just to have something to do with their hands.

"So," Eric cleared his throat and shot a look at his mother, "How did it happen?"

"Eric, I'm sure they-"

"No it's okay," Shawn said, "Is it okay Cory?"

"Yeah, it's okay with me, if it's-"

"Okay, so what happened?"

Cory carefully explained the whole story, his mother cutting in with little questions and exclamations "She wanted Shawn to leave?" "She stayed with another man?" "Cory Matthews you were in DETOX?"

"And then, he kissed me," Cory muttered toward the table, "And it… it made sense, you know?"

Shawn reddened, his gaze also burning through the table top, Eric stirred his coffee unconcernedly, as though he'd lost interest and was beginning to wonder what was on TV, and Amy rubbed her temple and opened her mouth to reply, but before she did, she hear the thumping of Alan walking down the stairs, accompanied by Josh's chorus of beginning to talk noise.

Alan cleared his throat when he saw the boys, "Oh. Still biscuits to go around?" he asked.

Amy nodded and took the baby from him as he sat down and the whole family watched him silently butter a biscuit and then eat it.

"I was thinking we could all go drive around and look at the lights tonight," Amy finally said.

"That'd be  _great_ ," Eric replied instantly, "Dad, do you want to go look at the lights tonight? We should all fit in the van."

Alan wiped his mouth deliberately with his napkin, "Sure. That sounds very… ahem… Christmasy."

"I'm gonna go get my book-" Cory started, getting up from the table the same moment Alan did the same declaring "I'm going to go fix the bulb in that plastic Santa."

They stopped, and looked at each other for a moment before Alan cleared his throat again, went to the coat and pulled on his jacket.

"Do you need any help with dishes Mrs. Matthew's?" Shawn asked from his seat.

"No, dear," She responded, "Don't worry about it."

Shawn followed Cory back downstairs.

"The light in that Santa has been on the fritz for the last 5 years, Alan," Amy told her husband.

"Well, now's as good a time as any," Alan replied, pulling on his gloves and walking out the door.

Eric patted his mother on the shoulder and began clearing the dishes.

 


	8. Diving

The weak winter sunlight filtered hesitantly through the half drawn shades in Topanga's borrowed bedroom and into her eyes. She groaned, tossed the covers over her head to block out the light and scanned her memory for last night's events…. Margot coming over, graham cracker houses, singing Cream songs at the top of her lungs… had she really started drinking whiskey straight? Yes. Yes she had. She rolled over, tugging the covers with her. The covers tugged back.

"Hey, you could leave me summa those, " a voice murmured. A man's voice.

Topanga bolted up, and realized that her sheet had slid off bare skin. She hurriedly pulled it up to her neck.

"Oh my god!"

"Hey hey hey," the man sat up, holding his hands out pacifyingly. Longish red hair, broad sunburned face, illogically large green eyes, "You're alright, you're alright."

"Hey," She managed, sheet still clenched at her throat.

"How you feeling?"

Name, name, name…. Garrison, Gregory…. G something…. shit.

"Fine… I feel fine."

Gaheris! That was his name… sunburn in December… he'd been in India for the last two months… something about a monastery… or something…he was from… Ireland…England… Scotland? Why was he here?

"Gotta admire a girl with a constitution. You were drinking a bit deep there last night," He smiled. He wasn't wearing a shirt. "Here, take the blankets… wouldn't want you to feel stared at."

"Umm…" Shit shit shit, "We didn't… nothing happened last night, right?" Topanga asked feeling the blush run from her face all the way to her naked knees. Gaheris smiled and shook his head.

"You  _were_  pretty far gone last night. Call me old fashioned, but when a girl is that drunk you hold off. I was actually doing my best to get you to put your clothes back on, but you were, heh, adamant."

God god god god… Topanga hid her face in her hands.

"It's coming back. I… sort of… drug you back here, didn't I? Oh god… I'm so sorry."

"Donna worry about it. I told Margot I'd look after you. Tried my best not to look after too much of you."

"Um…where are my clothes from last night?" Topanga asked as she sunk carefully back into her bed, protectively wrapped in her sheet.

"Yeh spilled hot chocolate on all of them. I threw them in yer kitchen sink."

"This is so humiliating, I've really,  _really_  never done this, really. I don't… I never drink like this, I'm very responsible most of the time…. I'm so sorr-"

"It's alright… I understand…" Gaheris gave her a hesitant crooked smile, "You've had a hard time of it. You're due a big drunken mistake. And I hope you're not too upset by my part in it."

Ohhh…. she'd taken her shirt and bra off. By herself. While he tried to talk her out of it.

"I can't believe you even stayed here with me, I'm so embarrassed you must think I'm… Oh god… I'm so sorry, I wanted to get back at Cory… I'm so embarrassed. "

"Donna worry."

Topanga lifted her head briefly from her hands "Why did you even stay here?"

"After the liquor'd really hit yeh, yeh got a bit melancholy. Said you dinna want to sleep alone. I dinna either. Sounded like yeh'd need someone here in the morning."

"I didn't ruin the party did I?"

"Nah… you saved alla venom for when we got back here."

"I called Shawn a trailer trash little slut didn't I?" Topanga said through her palm.

"Yeh did. Several times, actually. But it sounds like yeh were quite justified."

"I'm so sorry. I'm really… I'm just humiliated. And I can't believe I drug you back here to… tell you I wanted to rebound…on my gay husband. I'm so sorry. You can… you can go if you need to or want to or-"

"Got nowhere to be. I'll leave if yeh really want me gone, but last night we was having a decent conversation… till yeh got the rest of that whiskey in yeh."

"Oh," Topanga said.

"So…. Do yeh want to go get breakfast?"

"Umm… okay. Sure," Topanga said, "Sure."

"Okay," he smiled.

"Could you just… Turn around?"

"Oh," He spun around, "Right, sorry."

"Thank you."

"If it helps I only saw the left one."

"God."

* * *

Cory loped down the stairs with Shawn following on his heels, threw the door to their room open and flung himself onto the pillows of the unmade bed. Shawn crawled up next to Cory and Cory pulled him into his arms. Shawn could feel the wetness of Cory's lips and his eyes as Cory kissed him from his collar to his ear.

"I wish I could do something to help," Shawn sighed as Cory cupped Shawn's chin in his hand and turned Shawn's face to kiss him on the lips, "Is there anything I can do?"

"I can't take talking about it anymore," Cory spat, "I can't think of anything else to say to-"

"Shh…shh," Shawn tried to sound soothing, "Okay."

He was right, the endless conversations every time they retreated down here were getting just as draining as everything that kept causing them.

"Be here with me," Cory, squeezed Shawn's body closer to his own.

"What?"

Cory's hands groped across Shawn's torso.

"Oh. Are you sure? What if your father changes his mind and comes down to talk to us?"

"He won't," Cory's hands ran down to Shawn's thighs and back up.

"Are you sure?" Shawn asked, surprised at the breathiness in his voice.

Cory unbuckled Shawn's belt and slid his hand under the fly, "Be here with me," he repeated.

"I'm here," Shawn panted, "I'm here."

"I love you," Cory told him again, "You're the most important thing to me,"

"I know," Shawn panted as Cory began stroking his hand up and down over Shawn's boxers, "You too."

Cory let Shawn go so Shawn could face him. Shawn folded underneath him and Cory started undressing him, eyes locked.

"Should I get the light?" Cory whispered.

"No, leave it on," Shawn managed, "I wanna see the way you look at me."

* * *

Alan walked into the garage and slammed the door behind him. He pulled out the CD player that he kept on his small work bench, threw in an old Aerosmith CD and spent half an hour looking for the space heater before remembering that Amy had had him move it down to Shawn's room last week. Well. There went his plan to sit out here working on his thinly veiled pretense for avoiding his son.

Alan sighed and sunk onto his work chair, rubbing his gloved hands together. He could freeze his ass off out here pretending to do some pointless chore, he could run back into the kitchen for his keys and go somewhere in the terrible Christmas Eve traffic. He could man-up and go get the space heater out of Shawn… and Cory's room. Or, horror of horrors, he could talk to Cory. Or he could try again to explain to Amy what he'd meant last night. He ran his hands over his face. Amy would be so angry by now.

It wasn't really the gay thing. Shawn and Cory had always…. There had been a couple of times back win the boys were in high school where he'd been expecting it. And now?

Shawn.

Cory didn't think things through when Shawn was involved. Shawn lead the way and Cory followed. Cory clearly had rushed into this… thing and Alan knew, he  _knew_  that there was no way that Cory had thought out what this really meant for him. He'd had a  _marriage_ , he'd had children and grandchildren and someone to look after him in his old age with Topanga. Security. This thing with him and Shawn… they were two college drop outs, working minimum wage jobs, Cory had no direction in life and Shawn thought he was an author.

And things happened to young men. There were… dangerous elements to this. They could get fired from jobs, there were places they wouldn't be able to live, they could be beaten up, or worse. And if this was just a phase then Cory had lost himself his wife and his best friend for nothing. There were consequences to this that clearly neither of them had thought about. That Shawn hadn't thought about and Cory was too busy running after him to think about. Amy been angry enough to tell Cory the exact same thing about Topanga when Cory had run off with her. He didn't see why he had to treat this like it was so different.

Alan expelled another breath. It hung in the air. He stood up and went over to the corner of the garage where the broken Santa was buried under some of the garage detritus he'd told Amy that he would clean out and never had. He pulled the Santa out, and wiped the dust off with his gloves before peeling them off and pulling the Santa open.

"It's not like I have any clue how to fix this damn thing anyway," he muttered.

* * *

"It's like a sauna down here," Shawn noted as he and Cory stepped out of the shower.

"Feels good though," Cory sighed, "Cold outside, cold upstairs, nice down here."

"Think the word you're looking for is tropic," Shawn laughed as he tossed Cory a towel and started drying himself off.

"We could turn the heater down," Cory said plopping down on the bed and pulling Shawn toward him by the arms.

"You feel better now?" Shawn asked, purposefully overbalancing and splaying out over Cory.

"Warm," Cory smiled playing his fingers across Shawn's neck.

"Maybe we should actually go back upstairs," Shawn sighed into Cory's bare chest. Cory continued tracing circles along Shawn's neck and didn't answer.

"Seriously, Cory."

"Or we could stay down here forever and never have to deal with it," Cory whispered.

"It's been a couple of hours. If your father comes down here to talk to you do you really want to have to get dressed before you can open the door?"

"Hey. I didn't think I'd  _ever_  get any action in this house," Cory responded, "Let me revel for a second."

Shawn pushed himself up on his elbows and Cory sucked in a breath as Shawn slid his naked body over Cory's, "Maybe we can revel some more later," he kissed him, "Grab your book, let's go upstairs and be nice with your family."

"Fine," Cory sighed.

"Alright."

Shawn rolled off of Cory and started gathering his clothes up off the floor, grabbing a clean pair of boxers from his suitcase. He pulled the plug from the space heater and lifted it up by the handles.

"What are you doing?" Cory inquired lazily as he pulled on his shirt.

"I'm gonna bring this out to your father."

"Cause that's going to fix everything."

"Not the point," Shawn sighed, "He's kind of like you Cor, someone just has to confront him."

"Shawnie… are you sure? Doesn't this seem like something that I should be doing instead?"

"Do you want to?"

Cory shook his head, "Nope… you're right, happy to avoid the whole thing."

* * *

"I'm still embarrassed," Topanga sighed.

"Okay. Okay… be embarrassed, but yeh needed it. I can tell," Gaheris laughed nudging his plate with the rest of his muffin toward her.

Topanga ran her icy fingers along her warm coffee cup. She couldn't believe she was being so revealing with some complete stranger.

"Anyway… that's how it started, and now it's just like…. honestly, it's like I woke up one morning and Shawn had taken half my limbs and most of my childhood memories. Thrown them in a sack and run out of the apartment with them. Is that pathetic? That Cory constitutes life and limb? I feel pathetic."

"It's not pathetic."

"I feel pathetic," Topanga repeated, "And I feel bad about what happened last night. It's just… I just can't…. I can't figure out how to deal with this. I don't know what to do. I spent three days on the couch of these two girls that I don't even like, eating M&M's and listening to all the Beatles songs on my Ipod on a loop, I quit the job I moved out here for, I just feel like I'm on this downward spiral, and I hate myself for it and I just wanted it to stop. And… sleeping with someone else seemed like the way to do that. At least it did after that much whiskey. I mean… … he is… tit for tat. Or tat for tat for him or …. Anyway… I'm sorry," She raked her hair away from her face, "You're a very, truly, decent guy and you deserve better than to be someone's rebound."

"Listen, Topanga…" Gareth started, crumbling a bit of muffin off of the plate and popping it into his mouth, "I've been on a mountain with a bunch of gods and men for the last couple of months, so trust me, I'm hardly offended."

"Still." Topanga sighed lifting her cup to her lips.

"Do yeh still want to sleep with me?" Gaheris inquired.

"What?" Topanga demanded, her mug stopping in the air.

"I know it's not the most romantic offer," He smiled awkwardly, " but now that yeh aren't… drunk and upset and vulnerable… if yeh wanted to sleep with me… I'd be more than willing."

Topanga reddened from her hairline to her scarf, "What?"

"I'm just thinking… yeh know… if yeh thought it would be… a way to pay him back, move on, get past any anxiety about him being the only one, I wouldn't consider meself a rebound guy, if it helped yeh out."

Topanga stared at him.

"Yer decision, love" he said, clearing his throat.

"Let's get the check."

* * *

Shawn paused outside of the garage door, firmed his grip on the still warm space heater and kicked the door. It took a moment for Alan to answer.

"Oh… hi."

"I realized that we'd ended up with this in our room and thought you might be cold," Shawn said, holding up the space heater, "Can I come in?"

Alan didn't reply, but held the door open for him. Shawn carried the space heater into the garage, looked around for an outlet and plugged the heater all without Alan saying a word to him.

Dammit, Shawn thought to himself, I know I'd had thoughts about what to say when I came up with this plan… they were all good thoughts…. Dammit.

"Thanks," Alan said gruffly.

"I'm sorry," Shawn burst out.

"I said 'thanks.'"

"No," Shawn plunged his hands into his pockets, "I'm sorry about… I'm sorry that I'm with Cory. I'm apologizing. I know… I'm sorry that he's not with Topanga. I know that this is… I know it's hard. And it's completely my fault. All of it. It's because of me and if you're going to hate someone for it, hate me, because I… I'm the one that's responsible for everything. I'm selfish and just don't… don't hate Cory because of me."

"Sit down, Shawn," Alan sighed, kicking the boy his chair and leaning against his work table, "I don't hate anyone okay? It's….complicated."

"You're telling me," Shawn told him weakly, "When this thing started it was-"

"I really don't need details," Alan cut him off, "I just don't think that either of you boys have put any thought behind this."

"You're right sir," Shawn agreed, "No thought whatsoever."

"You two never do, you just go and then when the consequences rain down-"

"We're there for each other."

"Well… yes that's true but this is-"

"Love," Shawn intoned, feeling melodramatic, "Crazy, bring-on-the-consequences, as-long-as-we-both-shall-live love, Mr. Matthews. I'm sorry."

"What about Topanga?"

Shawn stared at the concrete of the garage floor.

"Did either of you ever consider what this would do to her? Or how you'd be affected by losing her?"

"I think about it a lot, Mr. Matthews," Shawn croaked, "But do you think that I'd ever, ever have…do you think that I'd ever have even admitted that I felt like this if Topanga hadn't been walking out of the picture on her own first?"

"What?"

"I was going to… " Shawn cleared his throat, "Topanga… She wanted me to leave and Cory asked me to leave… and I was going to… but she left first. She was gone before I… before anything…"

"Wait… Topanga left Cory?" Alan demanded.

"Sort of… She told Cory to kick me out, and she called when Cory was telling me to leave and she freaked out and I left for a couple of days and she… she left, she moved out."

"Oh," Alan said.

"But she did leave because of me… because she knew… she figured it out. She…" Shawn felt his face burning and his hands shaking in his pockets, "I really love him Mr. Matthews. I don't know how else to justify anything… it's all wrong, I know it is, but I… just…" He cleared his throat, "This was a bad idea. Umm… yeah. Here's your heater… I'm just gonna-" he got up to leave.

"Wait, Shawn," Alan called before he reached the door. Shawn wheeled around.

"Forget it," Alan sighed. Shawn nodded and did his best not to run out of the door.

* * *

"I'm not totally sure this is a good idea," Topanga admitted, tossing her keys on the counter and unbuttoning her coat. Gaheris stepped behind her and gently pulled her coat off.

"That's okay," he told her, wrapping one arm loosely around her, "Do you want to change your mind?"

Topanga shivered, "Not yet."

"Okay," Gaheris feathered a kiss against her cheek, "Then we'll go very, very slowly, and if you change your mind, we'll just stop okay?"

"Okay," Topanga said, Gaheris kissed her other cheek, "Okay."

* * *

After Shawn's failure he'd retreated back downstairs with Cory to seek comfort in each other again until they were called up for lunch. Alan was already sitting down to his own sandwich when they reached the kitchen. He gave them both a tight smile. They made awkward conversation through lunch with both Cory and Shawn avoiding or glossing over certain topics.

"How's fixing that Santa coming?" Amy asked him as she started collecting plates.

"There's no fixing the light. I think I'll just set him out in the yard the way he is," Alan told her, "Here, I'll get those."

Alan took Cory and Shawn's dishes and brought them to the sink before heading toward the living room.

"You know," He stopped at the door, "I think I'm going to go lay down for a while instead," he turned back and looked as though he was trying to say something, before giving up. But he resignedly tousled both boys' hair on his way upstairs. They got the message.

 


	9. Interlude

Gaheris held Topanga firmly by the shoulders, kissing her deeply. He ran his callused hands down her arms, slid them from her stomach to her back, brushing his fingers underneath her shirt. She shivered.

"Yeh okay?" He whispered.

"Yeah," She answered, awkwardly tagging on "Yeah. You're a good kisser."

He smiled at her, "So, is this the sort of thing where I make sure yeh're okay at every step, or should we just go with the flow?

"I don't know," She admitted.

He put a hand at the back of her neck and ran his thumb along her hairline, "Okay. Just let me know if I cross a line then."

"Okay."

Gaheris took the hem of her shirt in his hands and she lifted her arms in acquiescence. He pulled her shirt off and tossed it off the bed. Topanga felt his breath speeding up as he kept kissing her before he pulled away and lifted his own arms, monkeying her with a grin. She let his shirt join hers on the floor. Gaheris' rough palms were groping their way up her back, he unhooked her bra one-handed-

_A salt breeze blew in from the ocean, fresh, crisp, accompanied by the sound of the night waves. His hands were eager against her shoulders, her arms, her-_

Topanga jerked her head pulling herself out of her uncomfortable reverie. Gaheris dropped his hands to the bedspread, "Too far, love?"

"No," Topanga responded instantly, "It's fine. I mean- good. Kiss me again," she wrapped an arm around the redhead's neck pulling him to her lips. He returned her sudden force, kissing her deeply, passionately, pressing against her until she fell back onto the bed. He splayed across her-

_his curls tickled against her nose as he kissed her neck, nibbling at it, then biting just a little bit harder when she reacted with a sigh from deep down inside her, she let her hands roved over his bare back, down to-_

Gaheris pulled himself up against her, breathing hard now, sweeping a hand over her cheek, stroking her hair. He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing his way down to her breasts.

"We need a condom," Topanga panted, "We need a-they're in the bathroom."

"We've got plenty of time for that," Gaheris said, words between kisses, he lifted his face to look at her, "Unless, of course yeh're in a hurry?"

"No," Topanga shook her head, "I'm not in a hurry, it's… that feels good, keep-"

_She grabbed Cory by the shoulder, rolling onto her back, taking him with her. His warm weight pressed against her bare stomach, bare breasts, he pulled her skirt up to her knees-_

"Wait," She said, tapping Gaheris's shoulder, "I'm just… I'm going to go grab one, just so… just in case we get carried away."

"Okay," Gaheris nodded, "No problem."

He shifted his weight off of her.

"I'll be right back," she promised, "just a sec."

She scurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, sucking in a great deep breath as she rested against the door.

"It's okay," She told herself in a whisper, "It's okay, it's okay, it makes sense that you would be thinking about it. He was first- he hurt you, it's okay, it's okay. Gaheris is a good guy. Good kisser, good body. It's okay."

She poured herself a glass of cold water and gulped it down before pulling open the drawers under the sink. She knew Mackenzie had condoms in here. She found a variety pack tucked behind a bottle of shampoo. Ribbed, Cherry and Mint flavor, and… Studded? Mackenzie couldn't have one normal condom in her apartment? Topanga poured herself a little more water.

"Okay. Mint. Mint is good. Clean… minty."

She walked back out to the bedroom, her determination to be calm turning her gait to more of a lurch. Gaheris was waiting for her with a smile.

"Selection's slim," she apologized, setting the condom on the nightstand. Gaheris reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her down to him and wrapping an arm around her. He picked the condom up.

"Mint huh? Okay."

He kissed her cheeks gently, her eyes, then rolled her onto her back, kissing her all over then working his way down from her collar.

_He slid the skirt further up her legs, hands scalding against her thighs-_

He stopped at her stomach, breath hot against her navel as he undid the fly of her jeans-

_He hooked his fingers through the legs of her underwear, pulling them down slowly-_

He tugged each pant leg down slowly, running his hands up her legs, "Yeh've got truly glorious legs," he told her, tickling kisses against her knees-

_Over her knees, off her feet. She wrapped her fingers in his curls and he came back up to kiss her, "This Mrs. Matthews thing is just great," he laughed, big white smile, big brown eyes-_

"Yeh're sure you're alright?" Gaheris asked.

"What?" Topanga gasped, "Yeah I'm- why?"

"Yeh're shaking."

Topanga shook her head again, trying to concentrate on the sweet, handsome, half-naked, straight man she was with.

"It's a good shaking," She lied, "I'm… I'll … If I'm not alright I'll tell you okay?" She told him firmly, sitting up and undoing his belt. She yanked it off of him, "I'm alright," She repeated.

The guy she had no history with other than less than a day of a sympathetic ear and kind smile and strong hand. The guy who'd never turned her out with no way to recover. For someone else. This could be her someone else.

"Okay," Gaheris said as she removed his jeans as well.

_Cory's hands wandered up under the skirt, fingers fumbling unsurely between her legs_

Topanga willed herself to concentrate on Gaheris as he stroked his hand from her chest to her thighs. The smell of him, like pine and incense and tumeric, just a little bit of sweat-

_Dial soap and Apple shampoo, still a little saltwater-_

He kissed her neck again as he massaged his hands over her underwear-

_She let out a little moan, more of an ego booster than an encouragement-_

She couldn't stifle the moan in her throat and he took her hand in his, rubbing his fingers over her knuckles as he guided her to his own underwear-

_It's not she hadn't felt him hard before, through his jeans a couple of times, but his hard hot skin against hers-_

At least she knew what she was doing this time-

_"This skirt's gotta go," he declared, undoing the zipper and tugging it off, leaving her naked looking up at him, "God, Topanga, you were so worth the wait-_

Gaheris slid his hand beneath her panties, his fingers sliding against her-

_Carefully repositioned, awkwardly trying to find where to settle himself, she reached down to guide him-_

She reached out to pull his boxers down and he stopped, taking them off himself, then turning to her, she lifted herself slightly so he-

_Over her knees, off her feet. She wrapped her fingers-_

Gaheris kissed his way down her body again, down to her thighs then back up. This was new-

_he was being so careful-_

She clenched the nearest handful of blanket-

_Kisses getting sloppier, breathing getting heavier_

And the sob escaped her lips. Gaheris leaped back from her like she'd given him an electric shock. She threw her hands over her face and cried.

"Sorry, sorry, I'll… I'm so sorry, I-" he spluttered, Topanga sat up wiping tears from her face with one hand.

"No… I'm sorry, it's … I don't think I can-"

"Shhhh…It's okay, I didn't mean to," Gaheris reached a hand out to her but then suddenly yanked it back, as though thinking better of it.

"It's not you, it's not you, you can touch me, it's not… It's him, I'm not," Topanga cried.

Gaheris moved gingerly toward her and wrapped an arm around him. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed.

They sat like that for a while, until Topanga calmed down.

"I'm not ready for this yet, I can't, I'm sorry,"

"Shh..shh..shh…" He breathed into her ear, "It's okay, it's okay. Did yeh want me to leave then?"

"I… I don't… Do you think Margot is still home?"

"Probably."

"I need to get dressed."

They retrieved all of their clothes from the floor and quickly pulled them all back on.

"I'm going to go to Margot's I think," Topanga wavered.

"Yeah, okay," Gaheris said, "All me stuff's still there, but I'll just grab it and clear out for yeh girls."

"You don't have to," Topanga said, "I mean, obviously I understand if you need… to get away from me and I'm sorry, but…I don't want to chase you away."

Gaheris sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Yeh aren't chasing me off. Me roomate'll be wondering where I am," He grinned crookedly, "And to be perfectly frank, me and me right hand need a shower about now."

"Sorry," Topanga hid her face again.

"No. Don't be," Gaheris sighed, "If yeh need something, not necessarily…yeh know," he waved quickly at the bed, " _this_ , yeh can call me. I'll get yeh my number."

He and Topanga walked down the hall to Margot's apartment, and found her lying on the floor, listening to an Elton John record.

"What's wrong?" Margot demanded, leaping off of the floor. She bounded over to Topanga and wrapped an arm around her.

"Is it okay if I hang out here for a little while?" Topanga asked.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, of course it is, do you want something? Tea? Gaheris?"

He shook his head, "Nah, I'm just grabbing my stuff, leaving my number and then I've got to clear out."

"Umm… kay, here let me get you something to write on," Margot disappeared into her bedroom.

"I'm sorry again," Gaheris told her, "In case I did any-"

"It's not you, it's not you don't worry," Topanga repeated, "You've been… great. Very kind and I… I do appreciate everything. Everything really," She kissed him on the cheek and he pulled her into a tight hug.

"Here," Margot handed him a pad of paper shaped like a ladybug and he quickly scribbled out his number and handed it to Topanga.

"If yeh need anything-"

"Thanks."

He kissed Margot on the cheek and left with one last tight smile.

"Let me get you that tea," Margot sighed ushering Topanga to the couch, "What happened? Were you with him all night?"

"Yeah," Topanga said, "But not like that. Not really. We were kind of… nothing happened. I'll tell you about it later. "

"Okay."

Margot pressed a mug of tea into her hands and sat down next to her on the couch.

"Is there anything else? Anything you need?"

Topanga set the mug down on the coffee table, "Ummm…" she wiped the tears out of her eyes and raked the hair away from her face before picking the mug back up and taking a sip.

"Are you sure nothing happened with Gaheris?"

"Yes… It's not him," Topanga sipped her tea again and cleared her throat, "Margot can I ask you something?"

"Anything, yeah," Margot agreed immediately, her eyes spilling over with concern.

"Are they happy together?"

 


	10. We Are

"So," Cory sighed after he'd hauled Shawn's luggage into an overhead compartment, "What else do I have to do to make the last week up to you?"

The rest of Christmas really hadn't been as bad as the first few days. Cory and Shawn had gone along with the rest of the family to drive around and look at the lights. They'd sat in the back seat together, not touching, but still, loudly, together. Presents had been exchanged, with the family doing their best to simply ignore Eric's awkward joke about Shawn replacing Cory's frayed and worn flannel pajamas with the same style in blue.

Shawn looked up at him with a gentle smirk, "Oh let's see-"

"You should get him a puppy," Eric chimed in, "Or a Camero."

Cory and Shawn had packed up their room with help from Amy, who had gathered up stray socks and, silently tossed the belt that had found its way behind the headboard into a suitcase. Alan had hugged each boy in one arm before they boarded the train back to New York.

"I like the sound of a Camero," Shawn grinned as Cory plopped into the seat beside him.

"Hmmm… Camero might be tricky," Cory smiled.

"It would significantly reduce the time that you will spend owing me for this week."

"How long am I going to owe you for now?"

"Sixty years," Shawn replied matter of factly.

"Sixty years?" Cory gulped.

"That sounds fair," Eric shrugged.

"So I'm going to owe you for this until I die?"

"At 80?" Shawn shifted in his seat, "Nah. Life-expectancy's up, economy's gone to Hell- you'll have just retired."

"Kay. If you two are going to just grin at each other like idiots I'm putting on my headphones and pretending that I don't know you."

"So how do I reduce my sentence, Warden?"

"First off- you make sure that's the last time you ever call me that-"

Cory nodded acquiescence, "What else?"

"I want to go out like we used to. You and me, at a bar, hanging out, you not being weird, me not having to drag you out by your hair," Shawn told him, each phrase falling deliberately between them.

Cory absorbed that. It seemed like such a small request now and he started to realize fully just how much he'd taken from Shawn in the last few months.

"Shawnie- yeah. Of course. I'd like that."

"And-" Shawn started, but stopped again.

"Anything you want, Shawnie."

Shawn bit his lip, "Hold my hand on the way home."

Cory only hesitated a second before fingers hit fingers.

"How many years does this take off?" Cory asked quietly.

"Ten."

"Ten? Really?"

Cory saw Shawn's eyes go vulnerable the way that only Shawn's eyes could.

"Really."

* * *

"Okay, so I'm down to 39 years?" Cory grinned as they walked into the bedroom. He'd taken Shawn out to the bar, held the door for him, paid, and even gotten a beer whose name he couldn't pronounce instead of his regular cider so that they could switch half way through and Shawn could further his exploration two brands at a time.

"If this game doesn't stop soon I'm going to put 50 more years on and you  _will_  owe me until you die," Shawn announced flopping onto their bed.

"Fine," Cory took Shawn's choice of furniture to relax on as an invitation. He kicked his shoes into the corner, and settled down beside Shawn, "So you don't want to play anymore, but seriously," He laid his arm over Shawn's waist and brushed his fingers under the hem of Shawn's shirt, "I  _want_  to do something for you- anything you want."

Cory kissed him, thrilling when Shawn's mouth opened to him and arms took him in.

Cory slid his arms down Shawn's back and Shawn rolled lazily onto his back with a grin Cory couldn't possibly not follow. He pressed down on top of Shawn, loving the way Shawn's hand cupped the back of his head, his arm pulled Cory's hips against his own.

"Maybe I could take you out on a real date sometime too," he sighed into Shawn's cheek, rocking their bodies together.

"Maybe I could take you out on one," Shawn answered.

"Pasta and one of those subtitle movies from that place up town?" Cory suggested raising his arms above his head to allow Shawn to tug off his shirt.

"Burger and stuff blowing up?" Shawn replied as Cory removed his shirt.

"Anything you want," Cory murmured, liking the sound of it more every time he said it, "Can think of something I could do for you right now."

He slid his hand down Shawn's stomach, beginning to pull at the button of Shawn's fly.

"How did you know?" Shawn smiled.

He ran his hand slowly up the denim ridge of Shawn's already hard cock and Shawn sighed deeply, his head tilting back of its own accord. Cory wriggled closer to Shawn, rubbing his own, equally hard, cock against Shawn's hip as he continued to touch him.

Cory chided himself a little as he ran his hand back down. All the times he could have had this panorama below him in the last couple of months and he been worried about stupid things. Things that seemed even stupider as Shawn pressed up into Cory's hand and wrapped his arm around Cory's neck, squeezing his hand into Cory's shoulder. Cory's hand traveled slowly back up Shawn's cock and Shawn's other hand began spasming open and closed against the bed. Cory unzipped Shawn's fly.

"What do you want, Cor?" Shawn breathed as Cory tugged his jeans and socks off, "What do you want?"

"To make up for hurting you," Cory responded, not able to hit a new thought as he pulled Shawn's erection out of his boxers and stroked down the hard, silken skin.

Shawn let out a sound that was more like a whimper than anything else and Cory dove down to kiss his neck, his chest.

"You don't have to do that all at once, you know, I want you to tell m-," Cory squeezed. Shawn moaned, but was only momentarily distracted, "t-t-tell me, I want t-t-to do it," he panted.

God, he loved Shawn.

"Okay," Cory panted, pressing his lips against Shawn's exposed neck, his erection against Shawn's squirming hips, "Let me do this for you and then I'll tell you okay?"

"Okay," Shawn agreed, his head rolling back further.

"So what do  _you_  want?"

"Kiss me."

 _God_ , he loved Shawn.

Cory obliged, kissing Shawn as he worked him deftly, confident the two skills he'd been able to practice while he was with Topanga matched up favorably to the skill levels of Shawn's myriad girlfriends. Shawn squirmed and moaned underneath him, the hand that had been knotting in bedspread flying up to Cory's bicep and clenching around it as Shawn's body tightened. His short fingernails dug into Cory's arm and with a series of short gasps he came; spilling over Cory's hand and pulling Cory down. Cory kissed him deeply, passionately, slowing as Shawn's body stilled, and his breathing deepened. When Shawn had his breath back, he rolled over to face Cory and began tugging at his belt.

"What do  _you_  want, Cory?

"Umm…"

"Think about it," Shawn said, doing his best to kiss and undress him at the same time.

"Shawn?" Cory managed as Shawn slid his pants over his knees.

"Yeah,"

"I want to…" He swallowed, maybe he should let this one wait. Maybe this was too fast, they'd only been-  _like this_ \- for a couple days-

"You can tell me Cor," Shawn said pulling his jeans and boxers over his feet and beginning to tug at his socks.

Cory sat up, catching Shawn's face in his hands, kissing him. He couldn't just say it he had to… fill in.

" I want… because I feel like… I could've…" He shook his head and laughed embarrassedly. Shawn kept smiling at him as he straddled Cory's legs.

"It's alright," Shawn laughed gently, kissing his neck and brushing his hand teasingly against Cory's already moist cock "You can ask me."

"I want…" Cory started again. Shawn ran a thumb over the head and Cory gasped out "I want you to blow me."

Shawn pulled back from Cory's neck.

"You don't have to," Cory said immediately, "I just-I've never- I know that you… like that- and I don't know how cause I never had… one. I just thought if you showed me I could do it too, but you don't hav-"

Shawn cut him off with a kiss, "It's okay Cor, I was just surprised."

"I want… I want to be able to…blow you," Cory told him, "but since I've never…"

Cory felt like they were back at Lover's Lane again- having the same awkward permutation of the who's-gone-further competition

"Topanga never-" Shawn started.

"I was busy with- you know- the one thing," Cory admitted, "She didn't offer, I didn't ask. I didn't you know-  _initiate_  for  _her_  either so—yeah, but you- I want to."

Shawn kissed him again, massaging Cory's shoulders a little.

"You don't have to," Cory said again.

"No, I'll do it," Shawn said massaging Cory's shoulders a little tighter, "Lie back."

Cory dropped back onto the pillows, Shawn coming with him. Shawn kissed him slowly, letting his tongue thrust into Cory's mouth, his thigh rub against Cory's cock.

A small part of Cory resented that at 22 years old, with a marriage behind him he was still having awkward-first-time-teenagery-sex. A part that completely lost its ability to complain as Shawn's lips trailed down his throat and chest and his already insistent arousal could not be ignored.

God he loved  _Shawn_.

Shawn settled between Cory's legs and hesitated.

"You really don't have to," Cory panted, using everything he had left not to move his hips in any way towards Shawn's face. Then, without any sort of warning, Shawn dove, taking Cory in as far as it felt like he could manage.

Cory cried out loud enough that he was pretty sure the neighbors heard, but he couldn't bring himself to care as Shawn's tongue started moving against his cock, obviously without direction or intention, but- _Goo-ood_ -did it not matter.

Then Shawn suddenly pulled up and off, exclaiming "Sorry, sorry, I need something to spit in, sorry. I'll be right back."

Shawn bolted for the bathroom and Cory managed two thoughts- Shawn's descriptions of it in high school had not done this experience justice- and it was probably more difficult than he'd assumed it would be, but then Shawn returned from the bathroom with a Kleenex wadded up in his hand and returned to his previous position and thinking of any kind was given up on.

"Sorry, sorry, I'll work up to it," Shawn muttered.

"I don't care, I don't care," Cory moaned, "Just touch me, please."

Shawn immediately wrapped his warm lips around Cory again, sliding up and down, playing his tongue along the head and belatedly, taking the base in his hand and gently working it in time with his mouth, eventually finding a rhythm.

Cory writhed underneath him. He reached down to cup the back of Shawn's head in his hand, but Shawn responded by defensively bracing his free hand against Cory's hip so Cory abandoned the gesture and wound both his hands in the comforter.

The pressure on Cory's hip increased as Shawn sped up, beginning to moan himself as he did. The unexpected vibrations pushed Cory over the edge and he came, crying out Shawn's name. Shawn took care of his Kleenex and lay down beside Cory.

"You're incredible," Cory groaned, raining kisses on Shawn's face. He was blissed out further than he'd ever been, but still not too far gone to realize that Shawn was shaking.

"Hey-hey- you okay?" He pulled Shawn close, rubbing down his arms harder than he'd meant to.

"Can we get under the covers?" Shawn whispered.

"Yeah, yeah of course."

Shawn pulled away from him and Cory threw back the covers, bundling Shawn up in them and pulling the still quaking boy into his arms.

"Better?"

"Yeah," Shawn nodded into his chest.

"Shawnie you don't feel cold. Are you sure you're alright? I didn't… do anything did I? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no you didn't hurt me."

Yeah, sure that's what he'd been saying for months-

"I'm sorry, Shawnie I shouldn't have- I wouldn't have even asked if I thought you- you never have to do it again-"

"Shhh," Shawn pressed a kiss to Cory's bare chest, "It's fine. I… I liked it."

"So what's wrong?"

"It's just sinking in."

"What is?"

"Everything."

Shawn shifted so that he could reach Cory's shoulders and started massaging them again, kneading his fingers into them like a kitten settling into a blanket. Cory hadn't realized earlier that it was a comfort thing not a sexy thing. Godammit he  _had_  pushed Shawn too far.

"Everything?" Cory asked, caressing Shawn's back, hoping the comfort thing would go both ways. Dammit, he knew everything about Shawn, he should be better at all these physical cues.

"Things have a tendency to go horribly wrong for me, Cor."

"Shhh, don't start with that," Cory pressed a kiss to the easiest to reach part of Shawn, which ended up being his ear. Shawn continued kneading his shoulders absently, "We'll be okay." He was high on sensation and warmth and love and he should've been able to bring Shawn up with him, "We're each the thing that makes the other okay."

"The gay thing is starting to sink in too," Shawn whispered, settling against Cory a little more.

"Well, we did kind of come out to my parents, Shawnie," Cory whispered back.

"No we were-well… okay I guess… I guess I didn't think of myself like that really… I mean, me- _with_ -you seemed different than you and me… doing what I just did."

"I'm so sorry-"

"Than me enjoying what I just did," Shawn amended quietly, "It's okay Cory- really it's okay."

"Then why are you upset?" Cory asked, moving his fingers from Shawn's back to Shawn's hair.

"I'm not upset, I'm just… I don't know. Having thoughts I wasn't expecting."

"Tell me."

Shawn started kneading harder. Cory wondered if it was possible to massage knots back in, but wasn't going to ask him to stop if it helped him.

"A guy asked me out at the coffee shop a couple weeks ago," Shawn said eventually.

 _Mine_ , Cory's internal monologue snarled instantly. He bit back the instinct to say it out loud and instead answered, "Okay," but gripped Shawn a little tighter. The kneading started to slow.

"Yeah. We don't know his real name, the girls and John call him Sexy Sweater."

"Okay."

"I umm… I freaked a little. I told him… I had a girlfriend."

"So you're upset because…?"

"Total stranger, he was gay… gay too," Shawn said, sounding like the last phrase stuck in his mouth, "I could have told him I had a boyfriend. But I wasn't really even saying to Margot that you were my boyfriend."

"I don't care what you tell strangers Shawn. I don't think I've got the right to care what you tell anyone after the last week."

"I care."

"This is why you're so upset? Weeks ago you didn't come out to a complete stranger?" Cory asked gently.

"No," Shawn whispered, "I told Margot, and she laughed and then later I overheard her talking to John on their smoke break-"

"Were you out smoking?" Cory demanded.

"No, Cory, and that's not the point. Margot told John about what had happened and he laughed and said "I knew that guy was too cute not to be a fellow cock sucker.""

Cory kissed Shawn's ear again, "Shawn it's just a word it doesn't-"

"No- it's not… I was so mad at you for not telling your parents, and the reason you didn't want to is because you understood what it would actually mean. I just figured it out. I'm sorry Cor."

"Shhh."

Shawn's hands were bruising his shoulders, and he pulled Shawn's arms around his waist, holding Shawn's face in his hands and kissing him carefully.

"I'm the one that owes you remember? You had every right to be mad. I shouldn't have lied, I should've known. As your best friend I should have known exactly how much that would hurt you. As your lover I never  _ever_  should have put you through that."

"Lover?" Shawn asked.

""Boyfriend" seemed kind of highschool," Cory smiled, "It's just a word Shawn. They're all just words."

Shawn kissed him again.

"And if you wanted… I could become a cock-sucker too," Cory managed, marveling at himself for the nerve.

Shawn laughed tiredly and settled against Cory's chest, "Not tonight."

"Anything you want, Shawnie."

"Hold me till I fall asleep?"

"I'll hold you after too. I'll hold you forever," Cory pledged.

Shawn nuzzled against him and Cory felt like Shawn had finally made it up to his cloud.

"I love you."

"God, I love you Shawn."

 


	11. Getting Over

If Cory had been able to think about anything- all day- beside the feeling of Shawn shaking his arms last night and the feeling of Shawn's thighs quivering against his ears this morning, he probably wouldn't have done it. It was the end of his shift, Shawn was on his way to the restaurant to pick him up, he was tired, and it could have easily been left alone.

But Jake, one of the gayer waiters, bumped into Carl, the continual tits-admirer, at the lockers. Carl growled "Watch it, cocksucker!" and Cory snapped.

* * *

"So, then I said those pajamas would last longer than the last pair because they don't wear out as fast when they're lying on the floor."

Margot rolled her eyes indulgently at Eric, "In front of everyone?"

"What? We didn't know why Cory moved downstairs?"

"They aren't doing anything yet," Margot told him.

"After 3 months?" Eric tilted his head like a confused puppy, "Really? They seemed… comfortable."

"Shawn called after they fought and he stormed out. Said they were sitting pretty at 2nd base."

"Well, they made up real good. Maybe you need an update," Eric shrugged.

"I guess," She grinned conspiratorially at him, "Come here."

Margot pulled Eric into an only slightly private nook between the walls of the NYU dorms that probably shielded them from street, but definitely not the courtyard. She stood on her tip-toes to kiss him.

"Doesn't it hurt your neck to crane it up like that?"Eric asked.

"Not really," she responded. She giggled as Eric slid his hands arms under hers and lifted her up.

"Fixed!" he announced with a grin. Margot kissed him until he had to set her down.

"We probably shouldn't be too couply around Topanga, she's kind of a mess."

"Yeah. She's really had the world ripped out from under her, losing Cory, quitting the internship. She's kind of floating free," he wrapped Margot's hand up in his, "I think being in the dorms will be good for her. She can anchor to college, be the A-student again."

"I hope so," Margot sighed, "A lot of her was Cory. I feel kind of weird about being friends with both sides."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Cause I want Cory and Shawn to be together, I mean, they're having some problems, but for the most part they make each other so happy. And I want Topanga to be okay, cause even though I just met her I like her. And I'm having a New Year's Party and I can't invite all three of them."

"You could come to mine and Andy's. Gonna be kind of wild. Half the NBC casts are going to be there."

"Tina Fey?"

"Umm…actually she and Carlisle really don't get along, but I'll get her put on the list if you want."

"Tempting," Margot laughed.

"Are we supposed to find Topanga or call her or what?"

"We're supposed to meet her outside the door, help carry boxes, set up furniture, not be too couply and then I'm going to leave you here to help while I go to work and don't tell Shawn that I was here all morning cause they don't know that Topanga knows."

"Topanga left because she saw it coming. They must at least have figured that part out."

"Come on, you've known them way longer than me. You know exactly how unlikely that is."

"True," Eric agreed, "I mean, it took the idiots this damn long to realize they're in love with each other."

"I know right?"

"Hey! Guys!" A blond figure was waving at them from outside a taxi. Eric dropped Margot's hand and they ran over to help.

* * *

Cory woke with a palm spread flat over Shawn's bare stomach, rising and falling gently with his lover's sleeping breath.

 _Lover_ , he repeated silently with a little smile.

 _Wife_ , something still guilty and small in his mind answered. He pushed it away. Shawn's face was peaceful, his cheeks flushed and Cory leaned over to kiss one. Shawn made an almost silent noise of contentment and rolled a little closer. Cory smiled. He tried it again, butterflying a kiss against Shawn's forehead, eyes, chin. No reaction.

He lifted himself over Shawn, careful not to jostle him awake and began fluttering kisses against his shoulders, his chest. Shawn made a nasal sort of bleat, and Cory nearly laughed at loud. He watched Shawn carefully for a moment to see if he was waking up, and then continued kissing gently down his body. Through the course hair on Shawn's stomach, the ticklish place where his arms bent. Shawn made the noise a couple more times, but even a daring brush of lips against inner thigh didn't wake him.

Cory settled down on top of him, carefully. Against his stomach he could feel that Shawn was getting hard.

Topanga hadn't slept this heavily, and never naked. It usually only took a few kisses against her neck to wake her. Cory had loved kissing her awake- until they had moved to New York and she was always-always too tired. He'd gotten swatted a couple of times unbuttoning her pajamas and given up on the whole thing. She was working hard, he didn't want to bother her.

He set to Shawn's chest, kissing his way to his nipple, and sucking at it. Shawn's hips started moving against his stomach, but when Cory looked up he was redder in the face, but still asleep. He sighed, and, finally out of patience, set his mouth to Shawn's nipple and bit. Shawn's hips bucked into his stomach.

"Cory?"

Cory smiled up at him, "You sleep like a rock babe," he said before returning his tongue to Shawn's chest.

"I'm awake now," Shawn answered, voice muddy with lust.

"That's exactly what I was going for," Cory slid back up Shawn's body, Shawn whimpering quietly as Cory's stomach and cock slid against his own.

This was too much, Shawn thought, as Cory's tongue tangled with his own, as Cory's hands wrapped into his hair, too happy, too warm, too much.

"Do we have time for this before work?" Shawn panted. Cory began kissing his way down Shawn's neck.

"It's only ten," Cory answered, settling back onto Shawn's nipples, Shawn dug his hands into Cory's arms. He liked the way the muscles felt under his hands, the beard against his skin. Who the hell would've thought that a handjob in the backseat would open Cory's flood gates like this? Shawn couldn't remember Cory talking about always being on Topanga like this, and as Cory started sliding down further, Shawn wondered if there was any point in wondering why as Cory kissed his way along Shawn's hip. Shawn gasped.

"Is this okay?" Cory asked.

"Yeah, it's good," Shawn ground out.

"Can I keep going?" Cory asked tracing a hand over Shawn's thigh.

Shawn rubbed his hand over Cory's short hair, "You don't have to unless you want to."

"If you don't want me to you can tell me," Cory kissed his stomach gently, "It's okay." Shawn rubbed Cory's head again, Cory pressed into his hand, like a cat.

"I love you," he told Cory. Cory smiled.

"I love you too."

He wished he hadn't been freaked out last night and made Cory feel like he had to be so careful with him. He wished part of him wasn't fighting against how badly he wanted Cory's lips around him.

Cory kissed his stomach again.

"I want you to," Shawn said breathily.

"Are you sure?" Cory asked.

"Yeah," Shawn answered, then tacked on, "Please."

Cory kissed his way further down, before "Where do you want me to start?"

"Anywhere you want, don't worry."

There was a pause, and then a warm tongue, pressing against the head of his cock, and rubbing down.

"Yeah… that's good," Shawn moaned. Cory's tongue feathered itself back up and Shawn's head rocked back, He tried not to seek out Cory's mouth with his cock, remembered how much Dana Pruitt had hated it when he'd pushed into her mouth, how much Cory's hand pushing his head last night had startled him.

"More Cory, please," Shawn said, the slow tonguing turning torturous. Cory carefully wrapped his lips around Shawn and pushed down. Shawn cried out. Yeah, he was loving this, and he was thinking about repaying the favor again afterward and all the while he could hear himself as a little boy, taunting the trailer park boys his gang didn't like with that word, hearing John throw it out, knowing suddenly what it meant.

Cory wrapped one hand around the length of Shawn's cock his mouth couldn't reach. With his free hand he pulled Shawn's hand from where it wound in the sheets and put it on the back of his neck. Shawn ran his hand over Cory's short hair and again and Cory pulled off, holding Shawn's hand to the back of his neck.

"Show me what you want, Shawn," Cory panted.

"What?"

Cory bent back down, wrapped his lips around Shawn's cocked again and gently pushed his own head down with Shawn's hand.

Oh. Okay.

Soon they were both moaning, Shawn guiding Cory by the back of the neck, Cory pumping away and-suddenly- sucking. Shawn tapped frantically at the back of Cory's neck.

"Cory, I'm gonna-"

But Cory didn't pull back, didn't even slow down and Shawn- gasping and sweating- almost screamed as he exploded.

Cory choked and spluttered but did his best to swallow. Shawn rubbed his hand from Cory's neck over his ears and face and Cory languidly licked him clean as Shawn tried to catch his breath.

Cory settled beside him and pulled him into his arms.

"That was fun," he nuzzled into Shawn's cheek, Shawn turned to kiss him instantly, wrapping himself against Cory's body, feeling Cory's hard cock against him.

"I want to take you in the shower," Shawn managed, hoping his message was more coherent than he felt. But Cory moved off the bed, eyes twinkling, pulling Shawn with him, clearly understanding.

This, Shawn thought to himself, hot water dripping down his body, Cory's hard wet body all over him, was so worth everything he'd go through to keep it.

* * *

"Okay- how about that guy?" Margot tried again, pointing to a muscular black guy with an earring.

"I don't know," Shawn sighed, rubbing his lip absent-mindedly.

"Really? Not even that guy? He's gorgeous. He could have me in the alley."

"Yeah, he's good looking," Shawn said quietly, "All the guys you've been pointing out since I got to work hours ago and made the mistake of telling you about this are good looking, but I don't think I'm attracted to any of them. Can we stop now?"

"I'm just a little blown away by the fact that you just realized last night that you're kinda gay," Margot said. Shawn tugged at his lip again.

"Will you stop saying it like that? That's not really what happened."

"Are you attracted to me?" Margot asked casually, refreshing her coffee.

"What?" Shawn demanded.

"You came onto me in my living room that time. You wanted a piece of this," She gestured at her chest as though showing off a sports car, and threw him a mocking smile "Are you attracted to me?"

"There is no way I can answer that without coming off like a jerk or an idiot."

"That's part of the fun for me," Margot grinned.

"You're beautiful, Margot."

"I know _that_. Are you attracted to me?"

"Still not answering."

"You suck," Margot said. Shawn rubbed at his lip again and it clicked.

"Woah, wait, you did didn't you?"

"Okay fine, I wouldn't have hit on you if I didn't find you attractive, but I didn't really want-"

"No no that," Margot set down her coffee cup and grabbed his shoulder, "You went down on Cory."

Shawn gawked at her, "No way- There's no way you can know something like that."

She mimicked the way he hadn't noticed he'd been touching his lip all day, "This lip thing, I did that the whole next day the first time I went down on a guy," she shoved him admonishingly, "How was it?"

"Margot do we have to do this now?"

"Not exactly swamped now are we," she gestured her coffee cup around the shop, indicating the two customers in the coffee shop- the black guy she would apparently like to see in the alley later and the little old lady who came in every Wednesday ordered a scone and a small coffee and then did her sodoku for a couple of hours, "Now come on- if you want to be part of the girls and gays circle you have to be very forthcoming about these things. How was it?"

"I don't know."

"Shawn Hunter you are absolutely no fun at all."

"It was… unexpected," Shawn shrugged uncomfortably, "I don't know. Cory loved it, but he's never… you know," Shawn shrugged again, "I don't know. Cory loved doing it too."

"Cory loved going down on you?" Margot demanded.

Shawn shushed her.

"Yeah, he woke me up this morning before he went to work just so he could."

"Did he actually wake you up with  _that_?"

Shawn ran a hand through his hair and gave an exasperated groan, "No, he didn't. I kind of made him think he had to be careful with me."

Margot raised an eyebrow at him, "How?"

"After I," Shawn made a gesture that could've meant anything.

"Tiled the kitchen?" Margot guessed.

"Pulled off," Shawn whispered, "I was a little, freaked I guess. The gay thing sunk in the happy thing sunk in and I was… kinda shaking."

"Oh," Margot gave him a commiserating frown.

"So he wrapped me up in all the blankets and thought it was all his fault and kept promising that I never had to do it again."

"Was it that bad?" Margot asked.

"No," Shawn said instantly, "Doing it wasn't... like a big huge deal, I mean, yeah, first time pressure stuff, but it was… I didn't hate doing it, it was just… you know realizations. I don't know. Do you like doing it?"

"Well, if we're talking truths, I'm hardly an expert, but yeah. It's kinda fun. Getting someone you like that high is fun," She squeezed his elbow, "Don't worry about it. The first time my cousin Theresa went down on a guy he thrust into her throat so hard she threw up on him."

"There is nothing about that statement that doesn't make me worry," Shawn announced with big bewildered eyes. She shrugged apologetically.

"I'm just… when things finally settle out in my life, something awful happens. When I thought things were okay Angela she went to Europe, when I thought things were okay with Cory and Topanga, we were suddenly together, when Cory and I got together- the thing with his parents happned and now I'm…. happy and warm," he slapped his chest, "Right here, all the time and I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop on my head."

Margot sighed and sipped her coffee again, "Can I tell you what I really think?"

"Is there any way I can stop you?"

She set her cup down and looked him in the eye "I think you're using this gay thing as an excuse to be freaked out about something. You're in love, it took you 20 years to get there. Not everything needs to become a big end of the world thing with you two. I think you need to nut- up- be happy-and get over it."

Shawn didn't respond.

"Sorry if that's a little harsh. But I'm happy and I think you two should be too."

"Get over it?"

"Get over it."

"Huh."

* * *

Topanga surveyed her new home. Tiny, boxy, brick walls not entirely unappealing from where they poked out behind paintings. She'd thrown away her starry night print and Margot and Eric had helped her find replacements, new visuals, new symbols of her new existence. She was thinking of the Kandinsky as an abstract encouragement, the Georgia O'Keefe as a symbol of rebirth. The large print of a Ernie with a rubber ducky as a valuable reminder not to give Eric her credit card.

Her sheets were new, wine purple with a red comforter, stretched brittley over her new twin sized bed and pretending they were completely okay. Not too dramatic or too decidedly far from the soft baby blue comforter and crisp white sheets of the bed that Cory now slept in with Shawn. A bed big enough for two sides that they surely shared the middle of, her husband and his lover- her only remaining friend, curled together while she lay alone in a bed that was all unshared middle. They only called it twin sized so they wouldn't have to call it single and lay the truth out too honestly for a good marketing campaign.

Topanga made sure the paintings were level against the walls, noticed that Ernie's bright grin was not entirely unlike Eric's. She straightened the fold lines of her T-shirts, she shook out the wrinkles from her clothes in the closet and she sat, alone, on her new twin sized bed. She fisted the bright red comforter, derived no comfort from it and then got up and began pulling everything Cory had ever bought her out of her drawers, at first deliberately, than more fervently, throwing things to the floor before turning to her closet. The final item was a little polka dot sundress that she ripped the straps off of as she pulled if from the hanger. She pulled her new laundry basket out from under her bed and tossed clothes into it, with the same motion as a sailor bailing water from a life boat. She stormed out the door.

"Topanga?" A soft voice and a familiar accent sounded happy to see her.

"Gaheris?" She turned around and there the red head stood, solid and freckled and the smile sliding off his face, "You live in this dorm?"

"One, floor up, jest visiting a friend down the hall. Yeh alright?"

"What?" She asked.

"Yeh're face," Gaheris said gently, "Yeh look as though yeh've been crying."

Topanga hadn't realized but wasn't surprised, she held out her laundry basket to him, "I need to go throw all this away."

"Ahh… the big purge," Gaheris said quietly, "Would yeh like some help carrying that load?"

"No I'll carry it," Topanga snapped, then regretted it, "But I don't know how to get down to the dumpster. Would you come with me?"

"Sure," Gaheris nodded.

He placed a guiding hand on her shoulder and took her down to the dumpster where she threw everything out one piece at a time, sometimes holding them up to Gaheris and explaining where they were from, or what she'd always hated about them. Gaheris nodded quietly, watching her throw things out and cry until she was done, then escorting her back to the elevator where she threw herself into his broad chest and strong arms and then when the elevator finally dinged onto her floor, pulled him to her room determinedly, but slowly, guiding him by one hand.

"I'm ready now," She told him as he eased her door shut.

"Yeh sure?" He asked.

"Yes, yes if the offer still stands," She said, her drawers were all still open, her closet door squeaked gently as it swung.

"It does, but this seems like a situation what a man might be taking advantage of," Gaheris told her .

"Don't white knight me right now, I don't think I can stand it," Topanga said.

"If yeh're sure, I'm yers," Gaheris said, leaning down and kissing her gently. The kiss was sweet careful and it led them to the bed, where Topanga lay down under him, and he looked her carefully in the eye as he unbuttoned her blouse.

"Did Cory buy yeh this?" Gaheris asked.

"No, I got this one," Topanga answered, gently tracing her fingers down his arms.

"Then I'll be real careful with it," he said, finishing the buttons and gently tugging it away from her shoulders as he bent to kiss her stomach.

* * *

Jake, one of the gayer waiters, bumped into Carl, the continual tits-admirer, at the lockers. Carl growled "Watch it, cocksucker!" and Cory snapped.

He slammed his locker door with such force that the sound ran out like a gong, silencing the entire shift.

"No you watch it, Carl," Cory shouted, he stepped toward Carl, he hadn't realized how much bigger he was than the ratty little pervert, "Cause I spent a good part of my morning sucking the cock of someone I really love, sucking his cock again features largely in my plans for the evening, and he's on his way here. And if you upset him, Carl, we are going to have a problem."

Carl was purple with shock and the silence of the room held as Cory opened his locker back up, pulled his coat out of it and put it on. The door to the back room squeaked open and Shawn popped his head in.

"Hey, Tony said I could just walk in back here," Shawn said to Cory, before suddenly becoming aware of the tense staring match going on between Cory and the staff, "Umm, you ready to go?"

Cory broke the staring match, took the couple of steps between him and Shawn, grabbed Shawn's face and kissed him full on the lips.

"Yeah, baby, let's go."

Cory grabbed Shawn by the hand, and they walked out. Shawn's stomach doing back flips in his torso and his the worry in his brain about things going too well certainly not gone, but definitely quieter.

 


	12. State of the Unions

"Would it be an affront to your masculinity if I offered to do that for you?" Margot laughed. Eric had been struggling with her bra for almost two minutes and it was throwing a kink in what had been an incredibly romantic evening.

"I think I still have to be affronted for about another minute, after that I have to be apologetic," Eric replied.

"So you're taking the minute then?"

"Yeah, I think I will."

Andy was in Milan, Eric had run of the entire apartment. He'd told Margot to dress up and greeted her at the door in dress shirt and slacks, a vest and a fedora, with two mimosas in hand. He'd handed her one, directed her to Andy's impressive CD collection to pick out music and then returned to the kitchen to cook her a very fancy Mediterranean style chicken and cous cous dish that Carlisle had left him intensely specific instructions for. He had forgotten to light the candles (number 4 on the list) but Margot assured him it still counted as romantic if she lit them.

"I swear I'm usually good at this," Eric sighed.

"I remember," Margot kissed him, "Can I give you a non-affronting hint?"

"You're underwear requires hints?" Eric asked, looking endearingly bewildered.

"It's European, it unhooks on the otherside."

"Ahh," Eric unhooked it with a triumphant little laugh, "It's pretty. The matching underwear is pretty too."

"You are the only guy in the history of time that has noticed pretty underwear," Margot told him, "Most of them just tear it off."

"Margot, my wanting to get it off faster  _means_  that it's pretty and you look incredible in it," he slid her bra off her arms and tossed it over his chair on top of both of his shirt and her dress, "And completely amazing out of it."

 _He's so sweet_ , Margot thought as Eric kissed her, his hands massaging up her stomach, cupping her breasts before he kissed his way down her neck.  _A little crazy, but really- there. He gets me._ Eric started kissing her breasts and she sighed, rubbing her hands down his back,  _Weirdly soft skin_ , under his pants,  _ooh silk. Someone really had dressed up,_ under his boxers. He made a noise in the back of his throat and pulled back, Margot undid his belt and unzipped his fly. He shucked his slacks.

"You look completely amazing all of the time," Eric whispered settling back onto her, "When I first met you, when you're at work in the morning, all night tonight, right now," he focused his attention back on her breasts.

 _And the boy can read a signal!_  She thought, her body seeking out his touch without any interference from her brain. He'd clearly picked up on everything she liked, everything she wanted.  _And gotten good at it!_

Ericpulled at her underwear and she lifted her hips to assist him. He tugged them off, tossed them on the floor and sent his own after them. He grabbed an Altoid tin off of his dresser, popped it open and took a condom out of it.  _I on the other hand_ , she thought,  _am not good at signals._

"Wait," she panted.

"What's wrong?"

"Ummm… I didn't… umm-"

Eric put the condom back in the tin, "We aren't on the same page are we?"

_Dressing up. Candles. Music. Cooking me a fancy dinner. Dancing in the living room. The massage. Every cliché in the book and I didn't notice or put it all together. It was sweet though._

"Sorry. Different pages," she told him.

"I just thought, we've been on a bunch of dates, we've been doing, you know, everything else… I shouldn't have assumed- I'm sorry."

_Crap. The older I get, the faster this happens._

"No. It's okay," Margot said, "Your assumption is… not exactly out of left field. You're very… infield."

 _Oh hell, just tell him,_  she thought,  _he'll roll with it._

"Okay… So what's-"

"Eric, I'm a virgin."

_He's somewhere between surprised and shocked. Leaning toward shocked._

"Oh. That's—"

"Weird. I know it's weird. I'm almost 25, not affiliated with any shame-based patriarchal religion, naked in your bed, and I'm a virgin. In Manhattan of all places."

_Hadn't left, hadn't gotten the creepy "I love a challenge" glint in his eye that guys had started getting at about 20._

Eric brushed her hair from her face, "It's not that weird,"

Margot rolled her eyes at him.

"Really. It's not,"  _he was still smiling. A nice smile, and he didn't even sound condescending._

"Uh huh. Right. How old were you?"

"I don't think that's going to make you feel better."

"See, now I have to know."

"Fifteen."

"Are you serious?"

"I told you it wasn't going to make you feel better."

"How many girls?" Margot asked hearing the less-than-casual tone in her voice and hating it. If she weren't naked she'd be able to make that question teasing, maybe even coy.

"Five," Eric told her, still toying gently with her hair, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," Margot shrugged, "You don't need my approval."

"I was just… making sure you were… I don't know."

"Eric, you're really sweet."

Eric threw that smile at her.

"And I really really really like you, but… when you hang onto it this long… it sort of becomes a thing."

"Yeah. I get that," Eric said. He set the altoids container back on the dresser and laid down beside her. He swept his hand down her arm and held her hand.

She looked at him, laying patiently by her side, thought about how much effort he'd put into this night, thought about it, and chickened out.

"So… It's… I think it's going to happen. It's going to happen… not tonight. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he kissed her, "So what do you want to do instead?"

"What we've been doing?"

"I can roll with that."

_Oh yeah. He's a keeper._

* * *

"We should move to the couch," Shawn suggested dazedly. He and Cory were laying on the kitchen floor, Shawn's head pillowed against Cory's arm, their pants around their knees and their belts long gone.

"That would involve getting up right?" Cory asked.

"Yeah."

"Give me a minute."

Cory and Shawn's mood after Cory had told off his co-workers was best described as "exuberant", but by the time they had dragged each other into their building's elevator, "wild" was a better descriptor. Cory'd had Shawn's shirt unbuttoned, fly undone and hand in his boxers by the time the elevator doors had dinged open, but Mrs. Fielding from 3 doors down had been very diplomatic about it. They'd run, disheveled to their apartment, and Cory had sucked Shawn off against the front door without even bothering to pull his boxers off first.

"Okay, I'm going to make a play for the couch," Shawn sighed, "You following me?"

"Anywhere," Cory responded.

"I like you when you're cheesy," Shawn grinned, pulling his pants back up.

"Hey, that is the wrong direction for those," Cory grinned.

"Cor, it's freezing in here," Shawn protested.

"We've got blankets."

"I'm still wearing my shoes."

Cory kissed Shawn's cheek, moved his arm slowly out from under Shawn's head and scooted down. He undressed Shawn, then himself before they slowly got up off of the floor.

Cory collapsed on the couch and pulled Shawn down to lay across him, back to chest, and Shawn pulled the quilt on the couch over them.

"Do you think you'll get in trouble at work?" Shawn asked quietly.

"Equal Opportunity employer," Cory answered wrapping his arms around Shawn's stomach, tickling the hair there, "I could be all kinds of gay, they can't fire me for it."

"No I meant with the other waiters. They gonna give you a hard time?"

"Probably."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. I just lost my temper."

"Bringing the times you've done that up to a grand total of three," Shawn started rubbing his fingertips over Cory's knuckles, "What happened?"

"Carl called Jake a cocksucker."

"And what did you do?"

"Slammed my locker loud enough to get everyone's attention and then nicely explained my problem with that word."

"What did you say?"

Cory sheepishly repeated the phrase he wished he'd thought out better and Shawn let out a slightly exasperated sigh, "Well… that explains the look I got when I walked in."

"It'll be okay, Shawnie."

"I just… you didn't have to do that. It was hard enough for you to find that job and I'd hate for you to lose it because of me."

"I did that for me, Shawn," He kissed Shawn's neck, "Okay, a little for you, but mostly for me. And yeah, I'll probably get a little harassed, but there are other gay waiters, It'll be fine," he pulled Shawn a little tighter, "It felt good. I think I might…"

"Might what Cor?"

"This seems so stupid to say right now, but I think I might have been… lying, at lover's lane," He felt Shawn's body stiffen in his arms, and squeezed him tighter, "I think I might have been… gayer in high school than I ever admitted. And I think I did… sometimes… notice guys. But I was with Topanga so I didn't have to think about it. That's why Lauren freaked me out so badly. Cause I'd pretty much decided that it was only ever going to be Topanga, and then this pretty girl walked in, and I sort of liked her too, and it screwed up the whole system. You know me, I don't do well with having the system screwed up."

"Wait, what guys did you notice?" Shawn asked, aware that he sounded jealous.

Cory chuckled into Shawn's bare shoulder, "You, Shawnie. I noticed you. And a little bit that guy that Joey and Frankie followed around after Harley got sent to military school."

"Griff?"

"A little. Yeah."

"Yeah. I could see that. He's handsome in a dark hair leather jacket way. You might have a type babe."

"Shut up," Cory laughed. Shawn pulled out of his arms and turned just enough to kiss Cory. They kissed peacefully for quite a while before Cory stopped, "Shawn?" he asked, pressing his forehead to his lover's.

"What?"

"Do you feel safe?"

"Like in the neighborhood?" Shawn asked uncertainly.

"No, what you said at lover's lane about how you thought you'd hit safe harbor, that shelter from the storm thing. Do you feel safe with me?"

Shawn opened his eyes into Cory's, "I'm really trying to Cory."

"Oh," That hurt Cory enough that Shawn could hear it even in his one syllable.

Shawn worked an arm around Cory, "I know that I  _should_  feel safe with you all the time and I know I  _can_  feel safe with you all the time, but I'm just… who knows me better than you Cor? I'm a mess. I can see the ways that you are showing me that I'm worth it, but I can't convince myself it's true."

"Can I convince you?" Cory asked carefully.

"I don't know," Shawn admitted, he slid a little closer to Cory, "I do feel completely, totally safe, when you hold me. Which is new for me."

Cory wrapped his arms back around Shawn, "So you feel safe now?"

"Mmhmm," Shawn kissed him.

"Could hold you till you fall asleep," Cory suggested as the kissing resumed, "Could do it every night."

"Okay."

"Could hold you after you fall asleep too," Cory repeated, "Could hold you forever."

"See, now you're being cheesy again."

"You said you liked it."

"I do."

* * *

Topanga woke up sweaty, uncomfortably warm and noticeably alone. She threw her bright red comforter off and sat up, very aware that she was naked and her dorm was nowhere near big enough to hide a large redheaded man. She dug through her dresser, found one of her few pairs of clean underwear, and grabbed her bra, jeans and shirt from last night off of the floor where Gaheris had thrown them. Then sat down. Maybe it was silly to panic. Maybe he'd woken up and gone to brush his teeth or something. Should she call him? Was that a little desperate?

 _More desperate than the three total times I've dragged him back to my room for sex_? Topanga asked herself. She checked the time. It was only nine in the morning. Probably too early to call Margot. Definetly too early to call Eric, who she didn't really want to talk to. And about 4 months too late to call Cory, the only person she actually wanted to talk to, and still too early to pull him out of the bed he wasn't alone in. She dropped her face into her hands.

"Fuck," She sighed. She felt the tears well up in her eyes for a second, then fought them back down. Then gave up and just cried. Cried too long for Gaheris not to have returned from brushing his teeth, or from running out for breakfast, or from a long weekend in the Poconos. When she finally finished she walked to her desk to grab a Kleenex, and found the note Gaheris had left her.

_Had an interview, had to leave. Am busy with semester org planning until around 6, give me call for dinner._

Topanga took the note, and the box of Kleenex, and sat back down on her bed. She blew her nose, texted Gaheris to tell him she'd got the note and to think of where he wanted to eat, then texted Margot to see if she wanted to get coffee.

Then she took her clothes back off, and went back to sleep.

 


	13. When and Where

**Not Quite Two Weeks Ago in Nigeria**

Jack resignedly pulled a lizard off of his pillow and collapsed onto his bed, automatically reaching for his diminishing supply of aloe vera. He rubbed a dollop onto his nose and closed his eyes. Today had been a very long day. He lay still, listening to his back muscles griping at him, and then after a couple of minutes pulled the box he'd gotten from Shawn out from under his bed. He pulled a small stack of Oreos out of the Tupperware they'd been sent in and slowly savored one before he took Shawn's letter out of the box, pulled the notebook and pen out from under his pillow and started yet another draft of his reply.

Shawn's news hadn't been that much of a surprise. Jack hadn't grown up with Cory and Shawn like everyone else had, and in the first few weeks of getting to know his brother he'd  _wondered_. After catching Cory wearing a raincoat as he filmed Shawn in the shower, he'd asked Eric if there was anything going on between them and Eric had rolled his eyes and replied "Not yet." And while Eric was… a complete nutcase and over the years Jack had come to fear Eric's "plans", "ideas", and "schemes"- Jack respected Eric's perceptiveness about people. So Shawn's letter about the turn his and Cory's friendship had taken hadn't been a shock. The shock of the letter had been how desperate Shawn sounded. Shawn's letter was two pages of defending himself and,  _begging,_  actually  _pleading,_  for acceptance:

" _I love him like I've never loved anyone, Jack,"_ And:

" _Cory's the only person I have ever known that hasn't abandoned me (I don't mean you, It's not your fault and I think the whole peace corps thing is really cool)"_  And:

" _It makes me sick that I did this to Topanga but she had already left-really left- before anything happened,"_  And:

" _Being with him is the only thing that's ever made me feel safe"_  And:

" _He said his parents took the news pretty well. Please Jack, you're the only family I have."_

Jack had gotten home every night this week, pulled out the letter, and tried to figure out the perfect response. Something that the needy little bastard couldn't possibly take as a rejection, couldn't possibly take as blame, couldn't possibly misinterpret as anything other than the honest love and acceptance that Jack wanted to convey. Sure, the Topanga part of the equation was…Jack had always liked Topanga, and this was… ugly, but… Jack knew all about Shawn's mother leaving him all those times, he'd been there when Shawn had found out that she wasn't even his real mother and that his real mother had practically left the hospital before Shawn had in order to escape from him. He'd been there for most of the times that Angela had left Shawn, heard about all the girls that had made it clear that they were too good for Shawn in front of their judgmental friends. Considering the way that he'd been unceasingly battered around, Jack was a little surprised that Shawn trusted any women at all and Cory… made sense for him. Cory would take care of him. Cory was actually the only one that ever had. Shawn _deserved_ Cory Matthews.

Now if only he could figure out how to write all that down.

Jack uncapped his pen and took another Oreo off the stack.

"Dear Shawn," He sighed, crossed it out, restarted, "Dear Little Brother."

* * *

**This Morning in New York City**

Margot's phone chirped from Eric's nightstand.

"If this is Shawn I'm going to be very pissed off," she sighed, flicking her phone open. Eric murmured something sleepily and shifted his arm tighter around her. She opened the message and started texting back.

"Don't go," Eric yawned into her ear.

"I'm not going anywhere," Margot whispered, "It's Topanga. She wants to get together."

"She okay?" Eric asked.

"It's hard to tell from a text but I'm pretty sure she just wants to hang out."

"When do you have to work?" Eric started running his hand along her bare thigh.

"One o'clock," Margot set her phone back on the nightstand.

"That gives us all kinds of time," Eric purred.

"Carlisle leave you any directions for that time?" Margot chuckled.

"Instructions and a 15 minute tutorial on using the waffle iron," Eric told her, "So I can go find those instructions and bring you breakfast in bed," he kissed her neck again, "Or we can stay in bed and you can give me any instructions you want," He slid his hands up her bare torso, "Maybe if you're in the mood I can give you a couple too."

"How long does it take to make waffles?" Margot asked.

"About half an hour," Eric yawned again, "From scratch. Somebody's grandmother's recipe. I even learned how to put stuff in them. Blueberries, raspberries, chocolate chips. You name it."

"Mmmm… yeah. I think I want waffles."

"Done."

"But not quite yet," She grinned, turning to face him, and kissed him. Then suddenly stopped.

"Umm… teeth brushing would be an option," Eric said.

"Yeah," Margot agreed, pulling back, "Yikes. That Meditteranean thing lingers."

"Little bit, yeah."

* * *

**This Evening in New York City**

Topanga had forgotten how annoying it was to get made up in a bathroom shared by nearly a hundred other girls. She wasn't sure she'd ever known how obnoxious it was to do it on a Saturday night. Giddy conversations were being shouted over booming music. Eyeliner and blush was strewn across the eternally wet counter. Topanga accidently grabbed a pot of eye shadow belonging to the girl at the counter next to her. The girl interrupted the rapid-fire Spanish conversation she was holding with the girl on the other side of her.

"You could borrow that if you wanted," she told Topanga.

Topanga looked at it. It was alarmingly sparkly and electrically green.

"Ummm… I don't think that this'll work with my outfit, but thanks," Topanga told her, giving her a polite smile.

"I'm Maritza," The girl offered.

"Topanga"

"What?"

"Topanga!" Topanga shouted over the music, knowing that probably wasn't why Maritza had double checked.

"Oh. Really?"

"Afraid so."

The girl shrugged and started daintily applying the neon eye shadow "So, you got a big night planned, girl?"

Topanga blushed, "Umm… I think so."

"Yeah, where you going?"

"I don't know yet. He's picking me up at my dorm at seven."

Maritza and her friend "oohhed" at her.

"Boyfriend or a first date?"

"First date. First date in a really long time actually."

"Who's taking you out?"

"Gaheris? From upstairs?"

Both girls oohed again, "Oh yeah?"

"Do you know him?"

"Oh, everyone knows Gaheris," Maritza replied.

"Wait, like how?" Topanga demanded, her eyeliner hand freezing mid air.

"Clara down the hall says he's a player," Maritza's friend announced. Maritza nudged her with an elbow, screwing up her careful blush application.

"Don't listen to her," Maritza rolled her eyes, "Everybody in this building's got a story about Gaheris and he comes out the hero in all of them. I haven't heard much about him having girlfriends though," She waved a brush teasingly at Topanga, "Must be something special about you."

Topanga smiled and went back to her makeup, making a list in her head of places she could buy a mirror for her room.

* * *

**Tonight in New York City**

_White lies don't count_ , Cory tried to convince himself when he looked up from his notepad and saw Rob watching him again. Shawn had texted Cory asking if things were going okay at work and Cory had responded that no one had said anything about his outburst and that everything was fine. But only the first part was true.

No one had said anything to Cory at all. Carl had shot him a couple of dirty looks and refused to speak to him- which was actually a huge improvement to a normal day- but Tony's usual friendliness had completely dried up and Rob just kept  _watching_  him. It was starting to really freak him out. He grabbed the checks from his last table of the evening. There had been a lot of generous tippers tonight,  _I guess_   _that's a silver lining anyway_.

The gay waiters weren't talking to him either. He hadn't expected to suddenly be braiding each other's hair and throwing slumber parties but they were just ignoring him.  _The way I've been ignoring them the last few months?_  Shit. He couldn't lose this job, he needed the money, he hated job searching, and Shawn would be really upset.  _They'll get over it, I won't have to quit_.

He returned the credit cards to the table, wished the table a good night and checked the time. He was supposed to be meeting Shawn out front in like five minutes. He hustled into the locker room. Jake was changing but took enough time out of buttoning up his shirt to throw Cory a scathing look,  _You know, the kind I'm sure I_ deserve _for standing up for him._ Cory grabbed his street clothes and walked to the bathroom stalls at the other side of the locker room. He heard Jake scoff behind his back and ignored him. Cory could hear Jake leave as he quickly shucked his work uniform and heard two more people walk in and stop. Cory ducked his head down enough to see two pairs of feet. Not moving, not changing. Just facing the stalls, and waiting.

There was another stall, they weren't waiting to use this one. Were they waiting for him? Fuck. Carl was short, chubby body on a slight frame, Cory was pretty sure he could take him just on strength (even though he'd only hit one person in his entire life). But Rob was tough, athletic, a lot bigger than him.  _Will you fucking listen to yourself? You're in the work locker room. How crazy do you think they are?_  Cory cleared his throat and walked out of the stall, work clothes folded in his arms. Rob was handing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter to Carl. Cory must not have heard the locker door open. Neither of the men spoke to Cory as he pulled his coat out of his own locker, shoved his uniform into it and left.

Shawn was waiting in the entry way with his hands shoved into his pockets. His face lit up in a big grin when he saw Cory. He looked genuinely relaxed for the first time in months. Almost healthier somehow. He stepped up to Cory, threw a hand over his shoulder and quickly tip-toed up to kiss Cory on the lips.

"Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," Cory answered. He twined Shawn's fingers in his own and Shawn took him out the door, immediately steering him right, "So where are you taking me?"

"This place that Margot and I have been to a couple of times. It's got a little of everything on the menu and it's probably the only restaurant for miles that will make you a cheeseburger without any of the weird stuff you hate on it."

"Can I get onions on it?" Cory asked.

"Yeah, but I'd advise against it because this isn't the only thing I've planned for tonight."

Cory laughed and squeezed Shawn's hand, "God, I love you."

"Hey! Matthews!" A voice shouted behind them. They turned. It was Rob, running toward them. Cory dropped Shawn's hand and threw an arm protectively out in front of him.

"What do you want, Rob?"

Rob stopped and waved quickly and cautiously at Shawn, "I just… Look man, I'm sorry that the guys were such assholes today."

"Carl's always an asshole," Cory shrugged, inching in front of Shawn as he did, "And I suppose I deserve it from Jake, I haven't been much nicer to him than any of you guys have."

"Jake's an evil son of a bitch," Rob snapped.

Cory took a step back, sweeping Shawn along with him. Rob crossed his arms in front of him and spoke down to the side walk, "Jake was dating my older brother," Rob announced, "They were living together, Jake got me this job. Then Jake cheated on him- a lot- totally broke his heart. That's why I don't talk to Jake," Rob shifted uncomfortably, "And yeah, Carl's just an asshole."

"Doesn't the shit he says bother you?" Cory asked dropping the arm in front of Shawn.

"Yeah, but I mean, you understand not being able to say anything," Rob shrugged.

"I said something," Cory retorted.

"Cory…" Shawn warned from behind him.

Rob nodded, "I suppose I could tell Tony to chill," he offered.

Cory was about to spit something back at Rob about not needing his damn help, but Shawn's hand on his shoulder made him relent, "Right. I'd appreciate that. "

"Kay," Rob waved awkwardly again, "Have a good night," he turned and ran back into the restaurant. Shawn smacked a hand hard on his shoulder.

"Thanks, man," Cory called after Rob in response.

"You said that everything was fine," Shawn said accusingly.

"I lied. Sorry," Cory sighed, "Would you buy that it  _should become_  fine later?"

Shawn looked like he was about to argue, then groaned exasperatedly, "Fine. I'll buy it," he grabbed Cory's hand again, "Just this once. Lucky for you, Matthews, I am in a very good mood tonight, and I want to celebrate that with you," he started pulling Cory down the street again.

"Yay. Lucky for me."

* * *

"So, you were in a monastery in India?" Topanga asked, "It doesn't seem like you can just stay in a monastery."

Topanga had been on probably two first dates in her life. The night that Cory had given her his jean jacket and told her he loved her, and the time she'd gone out with that willowy kid while she and Cory were broken up. She wasn't sure if this counted as her third. It didn't seem like you could have a first date with someone you'd had sex with the night before and had nearly had sex with twice before that. She hoped it counted because it was going really well.

"Well, it's not like staying inna hotel, but yeh don't have to be a monk or anything. They allow visitors for months at a time, there was a German girl there visiting too," He told her, popping a French fry in his mouth, "It was… an experience. I donna think I'd do it again. Too many beans, too much sunburn, not enough sleep. Yeh traveled much Topanga?"

Topanga sighed embarrassedly, and looked past him and out the restaurant's glass front doors. It was starting to snow.

"I've never been out of the country," she admitted, "Eight weeks at camp, a weekend in Florida and at one point my parents moved to Pittsburg, but I was only there all of three weeks before I went running back to Philidelphia."

"Cory?"

"Always," She growled, taking a sip of her spritzer, "Since we were two years old, except for that kindergarten to middle school phase. He did everything for Shawn then," She cleared her throat, "That, at least, held."

"Who did you do things for back then?" He asked gently.

His eyes were so green. She looked down into her glass and took another bracing sip, "Me. I guess. I was… a totally different person back then."

Gaheris grinned playfully at her, "Who were you?"

She closed her eyes, not sure if he'd believe her, then,  _what the hell_ , "Margot."

He snorted, "Margot?"

"The girl I used to be had a lot more in common with her than the girl I've become. Margot knows who she is, says what she thinks, pursues what she wants. She's not completely lost."

"Being lost is simply the state that comes before being found," Gaheris said.

Topanga scoffed, "Did you learn that up on your mountain?"

"Yeah, actually," He laughed and Topanga couldn't help but join in.

"Can I tell yeh something?"

"Sure."

"It seems to me, and I know I don't know yeh all that well, and I don't know Cory or Shawn at all- but it seems to me- that yeh changed for Cory," Gaheris said. Topanga brushed her hair back, brushing her fingers too far. She kept forgetting how short it was now, "And yeh've been lost in him. And maybe it's yerself that he's been lost in."

She stared at him for a while, dropping her stare down to her hand as he reached across the table and cupped it in his own.

"Ummm…." She stammered, "I don't… I don't think I've ever really thought about it like that."

"Like I said, love," Gaheris said softly, "That's jest how it seems to me."

Topanga pulled in a steadying breath, and looked up.

Cory and Shawn were standing in the doorway.

Shawn was craned back against Cory, spread across his chest. They were holding hands. Shawn smiled because Cory had kissed his hair. Their lips were moving, they were talking quietly to each other, big fucking grins yanking their lips up at the corners. Comfortably out together in front of all of these people, guiltless, happy and cozy and-

"Love?" Gaheris asked tapping his hand against her fingers. She just stared behind him.

* * *

"So, were you really going to beat that guy up to protect me?" Shawn asked mockingly.

Cory laughed, "You noticed that?"

"You threw your arm out in front of me," Shawn pointed out.

"Today didn't give me a lot of reason to think that no one would take a swing at me. Besides, don't I get to protect you? Isn't that a boyfriend thing?"

"I suppose," Shawn said, "But I'm your boyfriend too, I'm not sure you get to sweep me aside like that."

"Tell you what," Cory stopped and brushed freshly fallen flakes out of Shawn's hair, "We don't get into fights, and we don't have to find out who has to protect who."

"Can't fault your logic," Shawn said, pulling him through a pair of glass doors.

"You're very agreeable when you've gotten good news," Cory pointed out, tugging Shawn into his arms by the hand, "What were you expecting Jack to say?"

"I…" Shawn started, "It was not knowing what he'd say I guess."

Cory kissed his hair, "He loves you, and I really really love you, and-" Cory laughed, he turned Shawn in his arms and kissed his forehead "Topanga."

"What?" Shawn asked, puzzled. Cory's arms fell away from his back and Shawn took a step away from him. He realized that Cory was looking behind him and turned.

"Oh. Topanga."

It occurred to him that he'd sort of forgotten what she looked like. She'd become a concept in his mind, an abstraction. Cory's ex-wife, not his and Cory's oldest friend. Something other than who she was. Shawn felt the guilt rise in this throat, that tickle of shame across his stomach. He stepped further away from Cory. Cory grabbed his hand and squeezed.

The red headed man she was with turned to see them, nodded in an almost business like way, and turned back to Topanga, they started shuffling into their coats.

"Oh they don't have to-" Shawn heard Cory mutter behind him. But they were- Topanga started for the door as her date pulled his credit card out of his pocket and put it on the host's podium with a casual "I'll come by for it tomorrow Tim, thanks."

Cory squeezed Shawn's hand again, let go and stepped out of line to intercept Topanga, he grabbed her forearm, "Topanga, I'm sorry, you don't have to leave, come on, we'll ask for a table on the other side-"

But then Topanga's date grabbed Cory's arm, "I'd advise yeh to let her go, friend," he suggested, no malice, no threat behind the words, just a very clear instruction as to exactly what Cory's next action was going to be.

"Don't, Gaheris," Topanga said quietly. Gaheris dropped Cory's arm. Cory dropped Topanga's.

"Sorry," Cory told her wrapping his arms self consciously behind his back, "But come on, Topanga, please, we can't even be in the same restaurant?"

Topanga wrapped her released forearm around her stomach and looked up at Cory, then turned to look at Shawn. She stepped back against her date, "Not tonight, Cory."

Gaheris put a hand on her shoulder and guided her out the door, Cory watched her go, and stepped back into line with Shawn.

"Do you want to go home?" Shawn asked gently. Cory shook his head like a dog shakes off water, trying to rid himself of what had just happened.

"No," he answered, "No, I want you to take me out on your date. We had good news to celebrate remember?"

Shawn wrapped his arm around Cory's waist, "That'll still be good news tomorrow."

"And what just happened will still be upsetting," Cory said, "Come on, let's do this first. We'll… we'll deal with that later. Okay?"

"Are you sure?" Shawn asked.

"I am so sure," Cory sighed.

"Okay."

 


	14. The Loss of Answering Machine Comedy

Eric called Cory's cell phone and thought about how much he missed answering machines. If Cory and Shawn had a landline and an answering machine this call would have some comedic potential. Okay, fine, maybe not high situational comedy, but a good joke somewhere along the theme of "I know I'm interrupting something and will use my 30 second recording time to be obnoxious"- because according to Margot there was pretty much no chance that he wasn't interrupting something. The down side to dating your brother's boyfriend's best friend was that you eventually heard all about the fact that the brother and the boyfriend had barely been out of bed (or not up against their front door apparently) for the last week or so. Eric's call rang through to voice mail, as he'd suspected it would at 10:00 in the morning.

"Hey Cory, it's your brother, very glad you just let me go to voicemail instead of letting me interrupt anything, for future reference that is always the right thing to do, I was just calling to invite you to mine and Margot's New Year's party- well technically Andy's New Year's party, but I get to invite everyone I want to and then I invited Margot's whole party over, anyway- starts at eight, but a very, very beautiful little birdie told me that you two have the day off and could possibly be dragged out of bed and guilted into helping me clean up because we've been in New York for months on end and neither of you know where I live. Give me a call, I'll get you directions."

* * *

"Wait,  _really_?" Topanga demanded.

"Yes!" Margot exclaimed in exasperation.

"Wow. That's a surprise." Topanga sipped her fancy tea, it was Chinese Black Orchid. It wasn't nearly as exotic as it had sounded. "I mean, no offense, you just seem like…"

"Like what?" Margot demanded with a little smirk.

"Like you wouldn't have any qualms about getting rid of it- not in a slutty way," Topanga answered carefully, "Because of the liberated, hippie, Goddess-worshipper thing."

Margot stirred her tea. It had little black balls of chewy something in it. For some odd reason they were called "pearls". Topanga had leaned toward ordering some in her own drink, but then felt that she had used up her exotic quota for the next few days.

Margot cleared her throat, "Confident, intelligent, interesting," Her smirk got wider, "And properly modest girls like me, tend to go out with guys for a couple of months and then get left for someone less complicated. Plus I didn't have a boyfriend until I was 22, so I'm actually just really behind. And, you know,  _expectations_  crop up when you're stuck with it this long."

"I suppose I get that," Topanga answered, "I waited until I was married and that has all of the approved expectations built in. What kind of expectations do you have?"

Margot sucked a pearl out of her straw with a loud  _pop_.

"Well…. I gave up on the idea of the guy being a virgin too a couple years ago, because, you know, that phase is pretty much over for them, as a gender. I'd like to love him, but that's getting looser. But he has to,  _has to_ , be someone that I trust completely. Who respects me. Someone I really like. Someone who's going to be careful with me," She sucked up another pearl, "Eric's all of that," Margot's smirk became an honest smile and she started working another pearl up her straw. Topanga felt compelled to respond.

"Margot… I don't want to burst your bubble or anything, but Eric's… crazy. He's just rubber room bonkers sometimes," Topanga told her gently, "Most of the time. For the last couple years actually."

"What do you mean?" Margot asked.

Topanga sighed. Where to start? "He once decided that we had some sort of vendetta and dressed up as a Grant Wood painting, an old woman, and  _my couch_  in order to sneak up on me."

"Why did he think you two had a vendetta?"

"I umm… Okay- there was all this… you know, business with the boys apartment and in the end Rachel and Angela and a professional wrestler and I wrestled the boys for their apartment and I sort of pounded Eric."

"You pounded Eric for his apartment?"

"Philadelphia's a weird place," Topanga offered in her defense, "What about the time he hit his head and could tell the future when he sneezed?"

Margot looked uncertain, "Wait, could he actually tell the future or did he just think he could?"

"Umm, I'm not sure."

"Really? Cause that's an important point."

"Jack really thought that Eric would be able to sneeze lottery numbers. He made him wear a helmet and kept throwing pepper at him, but Jack's got a gambling addiction. Sorry," Topanga bit her lip, "I just… you have this big thing you're holding onto and I don't want you to sign on for something without all the needed details. Cause I've done that. When very important points- like you know, gayness, suddenly pop up without notice- it's not fun."

"No, fair enough," Margot took a deep drink of her tea, "Anything else that I should know?"

"Umm… He was once tutored by an imaginary Feeny."

"What the hell's a Feeny?" Margot asked.

"Mr. Feeny- he was our teacher…. In everything. Forever. He was Eric's mentor. When Feeny announced that he was retiring Eric dressed up in a scuba suit and grapple hooked into Feeny's window to tell him he couldn't retire, then jumped out and then showed up to graduation and sang a song that I think might have been a little more sexual than Eric realized. "

"Okay…"

"Oh! He lit Cory's dorm and his parents house on fire when he was trying to get Cory to make him best man, and then when Cory picked Shawn instead," Topanga entertained a slightly bitter smile, "Eric showed up at the reception hall dressed like Zorro and tried to convince me to run away with him. He kept calling everyone half breed."

"Okay," Margot said.

"Oh and then another time-"

"Okay- you know I got the picture," Margot cut her off, "Really. On board the crazy train."

"Sorry," Topanga shrugged.

"No, you're right, these are all things that I should know."

"So… you want to repay the favor?"

Margot raised her eyebrows questioningly and Topanga felt a little grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, "Tell me about Gaheris."

"Oh…You really want to just skip over that minefield, Topanga."

The grin dropped off, "Umm… suppose for the sake of argument that I'm already in the minefield."

"Oh no. How far into the minefield?"

"We slept together, then he took me out on a date and I was so upset and jealous and after we ran into Cory and Shawn that we went back to my dorm and slept together 3 or 4 more times."

Margot cleared her throat and took a very long sip from her straw, "Oh boy."

"Oh god. Clara was right. He is a playa."

"Okay- No matter who Clara is you should never use the word playa. You should also steer clear of player and Gaheris isn't either…. He just… convenient."

"What do you mean?"

"Umm okay- Gaheris is a good guy, but he's not really…" Margot briefly wished she had more normal friends so that she didn't have to explain things like this to people all the time, "Gaheris needs to save people. Was he there in the morning?"

"Yes."

"Did you ask him to be there in the morning?"

"Yes. He wasn't there in the morning the first time we slept together"

"Yeah. That's because he's in pretty much every social justice organization at NYU. He does all the marches, all the pickets, all the protests. He let the lesbian alliance meet in his dorm for 2 months because they room they usually met in was being refurbished."

"Okay," Topanga started, "So what's wrong with that? I don't think a guy like that would take advantage of me."

"No, he absolutely wouldn't," Margot agreed instantly, "He's probably the only guy I would've trusted to take you back to your place after my winter party"

"Yeah, he didn't do anything, he soaked the clothes I spilled on in the sink and then just stayed there."

"Did you ask him to stay?"

"Yes."

"Do you see where I'm going with this? He's… just not… he's not going to be your boyfriend is pretty much what I'm trying to tell you. I've been there. I mean, you can call him for pretty much the rest of your life for anything ranging from a ride home, to help moving, to help getting over a guy… but he's… going to offer all that to anyone that asks him for it. He's a good… transition… but he's not the next step."

"Alright," Topanga said slowly, "Did you date Gaheris?"

"No. That's what I'm trying to tell you," Margot said, "I got dumped, I was really heartbroken about it, and I was complaining about just wanting to go out on a date again. So Gaheris took me to a movie, held my hand, we made out a little, he stayed over, but he had a world to go save in the morning."

"So he's… helping me… because I asked him too," Topanga clarified.

"Yes," Margot confirmed apologetically.

"This part isn't super helpful," Topanga's voice got throaty and Margot gulped her tea uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry."

"God this just makes last night so much worse too. It's not bad enough to see Cory and Shawn looking at each other and being puppy-dog eyed, the hills are alive, dopey smile besotted, now it turns out the date that Cory was so fucking polite about was just putting in his community service."

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you earlier, or not let you go or something."

"No, it's not your fault… I'm…I don't think I'm cut out for this single thing."

"It's one set back, Topanga. Plus, I mean, did you listen to your Philadelphia stories? It's not singlehood, it's the transition. You need a little more time to settle in  _here_."

"I've been living in New York for months!"

"Yeah, with Cory and Shawn, who, trust me, are like a Philadelphia weirdness bio-dome. Tell you what- Eric and I are mooching Andy's New Year's Party, you should come."

"Are you going to talk to Eric about the… Philadelphia weirdness?"

"Sort of have to now don't I?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry about Gaheris."

They finished their drinks and pushed away from their table.

"Next time we go out," Topanga started as they walked out the door, "Let's go to a bar."

"Yeah," Margot agreed.

* * *

"Hey, are you alright? You sounded really weird on the phone," Eric said, ushering Margot into his apartment, "How was going out for drinks with Topanga?"

"Could've been better," Margot shrugged.

Eric wrapped his arms around her waist, "I'm sorry."

"She's… ummm… I had to tell her some stuff about a guy that I know that she didn't want to hear."

"Shawn?"

"No, my friend Gaheris, she thinks they're dating, and I know for a fact that he doesn't think so."

"That poor girl just cannot catch a break can she."

"And she told me a bunch of stories about Philadelphia, bunch of stories about you."

"Did she tell you the one where Jack and I had to hide out in fake beards in the Amish country to escape a bookie we couldn't pay?"

Margot grinned, "No, she left that one out."

Eric brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "Are you sure you're alright? I thought you needed to go home after you went out with Topanga."

Margot tip-toed up to kiss him, "Topanga told me all these stories about the crazy things that you did. Really, really crazy things. Things you didn't tell me."

"Okay…sorry. What do you want to know?"

"Nothing."

Eric grinned uncertainly at her, "Margot, I don't get it, what's going on?"

"Nothing she said bothered me. I mean, she made you sound like a total nut, and I know she's a little over-sensitive about not getting the full story on people right now, but she was telling me things she thought I needed to know, and none of it, not even the scuba suit and the grappling hook, made me second guess being with you."

"So basically you still like me?" Eric asked.

"Basically, I trust you. I love you-"

"I love you too-"

"-and I came over to see if you still have that altoid container full of condoms."

"Wait, are you serious?" Eric demanded.

"I'm serious."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

Eric froze for a second, then hauled Margot over his shoulder and practically skipped into his bedroom, carefully flipping her down onto his bed and settling on top of her. She surged up to kiss him and his phone began vibrating across his nightstand.

"You can answer that if you need to," Margot told him.

"If God wanted me to answer that phone he wouldn't have invented voicemail."

Margot kissed him again and Eric pulled back, "Wait, wait- you and Topanga went out for drinks?"

"What? Oh no. Tea, we got tea."

"Thank god," Eric resumed kissing her, "Cause there's a damn good chance that last bit of chivalry was a bluff."

 


	15. Momentum

Topanga stood in front of the full length mirror she'd put up in her room after last night's adventure in getting made up in the dormitory bathroom, staring at as much of her reflection as the very narrow mirror would show.

She definitely preferred the reflection to the price tag. She'd never made an impulse buy before, and certainly never on something that was a solid two hundred dollars out of her price range. The price tag hung off of the waist, daring her to pull it off and commit. Her hand strayed toward it, but instead she smoothed the bodice again, and continued to look at her reflection.

Tea with Margot had left her very caught up in her thoughts. She couldn't decide if she was grateful to Gaheris for trying to help her or if she hated him for making her feel like this. She  _had_ come down on the side of hating him once she realized that Margot's news had made her want to call him and be comforted. She was so preoccupied with making this decision that she'd headed off in completely the opposite direction of campus and not realized it until she'd found herself in a street she'd never seen before. It had been lined with little boutiques and she'd walked into the nearest door, and- in an much calmer counter point to a couple days ago when she'd thrown all her clothes away-had pulled replacements off the racks without really looking at things like price tags and tried things on for hours.

The one thing that she did have to admire about the price tag on this dress was that it hadn't described the dress with some pathetic, overused, little word like "red". "Red" was for boring, weak, sales-rack rejects."Red" didn't give a girl this sort of cleavage, "red" didn't give a girl this kind of waist line, and "red" couldn't make her lips pout that much further out or her eyes that much bigger. This was a "Fucking Bloody Crimson" dress, it was a solid 200 dollars out of Topanga's price range, and she was wearing it to the New Year's Party because she looked heart-stopping, drink-spilling cock-stiffening, knocking-down-the-goddamn-door incredible in it.

Which was a stupid reason to blow that much money on it. It wasn't as though Gaheris would care, and it wasn't as though Cory would notice.

She wasn't stupid, she knew that at a party thrown by Cory's brother and Shawn's "best friend" (and it was almost laughable to try and apply that term to a person that wasn't Cory) Cory-and-Shawn would wind up at the top of the guest list and she had probably been just pathetic enough to wind up with a pity invite.

 _You don't have to go_ , she told herself.

But she did. She had to see them together again, maybe even talk to Cory and make some sort of blind grab for closure. She wanted to think she would have tried it at the restaurant, but they'd walked in so suddenly. As many times as her imagination had tormented her with the idea of them together, having them actually walk in and be… comfortable- doting-sweet- looking for all the world like people who were going to be wandering around the supermarket at 110 years old still holding hands- had been a shock to the system. She and Cory probably never looked like that while they were out together.

 _You don't have to go alone_ , she told herself.

That was true. She didn't. All she had to do to go to this party with a smart, handsome, interesting man on her arm was call Gaheris. She only had to ask to get Gaheris to talk to Cory for her. Maybe even harass Shawn a little bit. Anything she wanted.

She undid the laces on the dress, then the hooks. She shimmied out of it carefully and folded precisely before putting it back in the box.

* * *

Shawn headed home, wiped out from working a double shift. He'd only been scheduled for a regular shift, but Margot had called him and begged and there was flat out no getting around the fact that he owed her. Not exactly first-born-child owed her, but absolutely couple-double-shifts-and-a cheeseburger owed her. Which gave him eight more hours to… he wasn't going to say worry…. Assess maybe?  _Assess_  his current relationship hiccup with Cory.

Cory had spent dinner pretending that they hadn't run into Topanga at all, then when Shawn had tried to bring it up on the way home Cory had tried to kiss the whole thing away. Shawn had pointed out that he knew that trick and Cory had replied "I know. I'm sorry. Can I use it this one more time though? Please?" and Shawn had caved because running away from problems was what he did and he damn well knew it.

So here he was-  _assessing_. He was actually very proud of himself for this- assessing was not panicking, annoyed was not upset, and a hiccup was not a fight. Margot's injunction to nut-up- be-happy-and-get-over-it blared in his head, but not quite loud enough to drown out his own mental voice which was loud and obnoxious and whiny and yes- panicked.

He hated that voice. The voice that made him take inventory of where he was every single morning. The voice that made him find all the holes in his life and make them bigger and bigger until things fell apart. The voice that picked apart all the lovely things that Cory whispered to him. And nothing egged on the voice more than Topanga's occasional cameos in his life.

Shawn wondered if the thought of Topanga would always do this to him. He was genuinely worried that if Cory and Topanga wound up in a class together after Cory went back to school, that he, Shawn, would never be able to concentrate again. It was too easy (prodded by the voice) to imagine them, exchanging notes…checking the homework with each other… one accidently winding up in the other's study group and then-hey- why not get a cup of coffee in the student union? Because as ridiculous as it was to imagine a couple simply kissing away the time they got divorced over a gay affair- there was weirdness in the Cory/Topanga dynamic and there always had been. Enough weirdness that Shawn wasn't totally sold that Cory's recent revelations about his sexuality could neutralize it all in one go.

He was nutting up. He was being happy. He was getting over it.

He kind of wished he could get himself to talk about his own revelations about his own sexuality- namely the fact that he didn't have any. Cory was gay now, or rather had finally figured out that he always had been, and Shawn was in love with Cory, but didn't feel like he truly had a socially recognized term to back that up.

He  _had_  enjoyed girls in high school. He wasn't sure that what he'd felt for Angela was love anymore, now that he had what he felt for Cory to compare it to, but he had deeply, deeply cared about her. And he never had noticed guys. He wasn't unaware of what girls found attractive in guys, and tended to notice those things -usually noting how he stacked up- but that had been completely different from the way he'd been dedicated to watching the girls volley ball team run laps.

And, though he was glad Margot had been distracted before making him admit it, he did think she was beautiful, she'd pulled him into the friend zone so fast that he'd never really been sexually attracted to her, but if she'd fallen for his lines, he would have slept with her, and he was sure he would have enjoyed it. He'd more or less decided that if anyone were to flat out ask him he was just going to reply that he was gay. He'd been debating bisexuality and hoping that the ratio of girls to guys was unimportant, but he'd been telling the truth at lover's lane. He was so in love with Cory that he didn't notice anyone else anymore. Zero to one was a pretty clear ratio.

He'd spent a lot of the last few months… assessing… the theory that he might be so damaged that he would always love Cory because he could actually make himself believe that Cory would always be there. Even when he and Cory fought, even when Cory hurt him, Cory always came back for him. Always found him, always apologized, always saved him. Even the voice couldn't completely convince him that Cory would abandon him. But it sure as hell tried.

He turned onto their block, and started trying out an opener for this conversation. He just wanted Cory to talk to him about the Topanga issue. Cory ignoring things was never a good sign. Cory exploded hardest about the things that he ignored. And if the look on Topanga's face last night had killed Shawn, he hated to think what it must have done to Cory.

And it wasn't just running into her last night- they'd never talked about it. They'd talked about the divorce proceedings, but not enough so that the voice in Shawn's head didn't make him worry daily about what was going to happen when they got the letter in the mail announcing that the divorce was final.

She sometimes came up as a brief reference in "remember when" conversations, but the subject always changed after the story she made her appearance in had been told. They never talked about what they'd done to her. Shawn thought Cory missed her. The voice knew that Cory missed her.

Shawn reached their building, pulled out his keys and opened the door. He stopped in the foyer to grab their mail, and was actually a little surprised that they even had any. He pulled out the wad of coupons and the couple of envelopes.

One of them was kind of a shock.

* * *

Margot wanted to ask Eric what he was thinking about, but she wasn't going to do it because it was just such a cliché.

She knew exactly what she was thinking- that she was warm and sated and happy and loved and comfortable and sleepy and never leaving this bed… but clichéd or not she was curious what Eric was thinking- even though she knew full well that this was Eric and the chance that there was any connection between what was happening and what he was thinking about were slim. She was also wondering if maybe this immediately post-virginity moment was supposed to be a quiet sort of moment. Maybe she'd just wait for Eric to say something. She was perfectly happy to lie here enjoying happy aftershocks and the smell and Eric's skin. Well… perfectly happy, but in a hoping-that-someone-would-say-something kind of way.

Eric had his face buried in her neck, his arm draped over her stomach, and his fingers brushing gently in her palm. She felt a couple of kisses against her neck and she smiled and grabbed Eric's fingers in her hand.

"Eric?" she started.

"Waffles."

It took her a second to make sure that's what she had really heard.

"Waffles," He repeated.

"That's sweet," Margot replied, rolling her eyes.

"I was going to make you waffles after this," he sighed, "The other night-I was going to make you waffles in the morning," he kissed her neck again, "You need waffles."

Margot laughed and Eric sat up enough to kiss her.

"I love you," She told him again. They'd never said it to each other before she'd showed up in his apartment after tea with Topanga. It was kind of a thrill. Especially when he smiled and replied, "I love you too."

There was a little pause, in which Eric just looked at her, then he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "So… do you want waffles?"

"It's almost midnight," Margot protested.

"Yeah, but I was thinking- quick carbo-load- and then maybe another round?" A look of concern crossed his face suddenly "Wait, are  _you_   _okay_  for another round? Everything's… you're all- like - _together_ right? I've never- you know- been someone's first before."

"I'm fine," Margot kissed him, "You were very…," she felt the dopey smile slide over her face, "You were very  _everything_. But I am going to have to rain check on a round two."

"But I can still make you waffles right?"

"Chocolate chip?"

Eric bit his lip, "There might have been an incident that involved me eating the bag of chocolate chips."

"An incident?"

"Yeah…. I ate all the chocolate chips. Out of the bag. After you left. I could find you something in the berry family though."

"Berries it is."

* * *

"Hey! This is Eric Matthew's cell phone, but sadly he has not answered. If he knows where his phone is he should get back to you sometime soon, if he doesn't, and you could help him find it… that would be great… but he's not sure how you would get a hold of him to tell him with his phone missing… um… so maybe if you could-"

Cory hung up without leaving a message. He'd just try again later. Besides, if the message that Eric left him was any indication Cory should probably be glad that Eric hadn't answered. He didn't want to interrupt Eric anymore than Eric wanted to interrupt him. He tossed the phone onto the bed, and returned to the task that he'd set himself once Shawn had called and he'd wound up with his evening empty- cleaning the bedroom.

Life had been full of  _distractions_  since they got home from Philadelphia and the bedroom, where they'd spent most of the week, was a terrible disaster. There were some dirty bowls from a couple nights ago when Shawn had dug out a recipe book (a wedding gift, but Cory had decided not to say anything) and made this chicken thing that would probably be amazing now that they had figured out the difference between cumin and coriander. The nightstand was covered in dirty wine glasses because over the last week a naked night cap had become a pleasantly decadent habit. And of course, feverishly discarded clothes were strewn  _everywhere_. Shawn's ratty Om T-shirt was actually lying in one of the dirty bowls.

Cory sighed and started with the laundry, which was definitely the biggest issue. It had been a time since anyone had made a trip to the Laundromat and the pickings for clean clothes were getting slim. Cory had actually just grabbed one of the briefly worn T-shirts off of the floor this morning. It was one of Shawn's and it smelled like him. Once he had the laundry done he turned his attention to the dishes.

It was stupid, and he knew it was stupid, but one of the things that he was enjoying about being gay now was it was no longer an admission to like doing the dishes. Just a statement. He  _liked_ doing the dishes. He  _liked_  making preserves. He  _liked_  baking. He would  _like_  folding the laundry that he every intention of washing sometime this week.  _And_  he could still like watching wrestling and playing hoops.

Then there was the extra-special-super-mega bonus of getting to be with someone who could do the same thing- who blushed when he told you he loved that you were strong enough to pick him up, but still made sure you knew he could annihilate you in baseball. Who wanted you to hold him while he slept, but whose feathers had ruffled in indignation at the implication that you thought he couldn't take care of himself in a fight.

"My perfect wife," he remembered writing a million years ago, "will play street hockey with me anytime day or night," and then Topanga looking at him and demanding, "Why don't you just marry Shawn?"

He missed Topanga. Not as a safety net, not as a wife, but as a friend he shouldn't have done this to. A friend he shouldn't have lied to, used, and hurt so badly she couldn't even be in the same building as him. The fact that she had actually left the restaurant rather than be in the same room as him had been eating at him ever since she'd walked out.

Topanga, the way she'd always been able to, had put her finger on his whole problem back in high school- he did just want everyone to love him. He understood perfectly why it was silly, if not possibly even cruel, to expect  _her_  to, and while he really did want to go nuts about this- call her and apologize and try to make her feel better and beg her for forgiveness- he was putting a concentrated effort into  _not_  going crazy about this. The whole discussion was a Pandora's box- once opened there was no going back. His neurosis would inevitably drag him along a terrible path- trying to make things right with Topanga, which would only end in his hurting Shawn.

Cory knew that Shawn wanted to talk about it, knew that Shawn felt just as guilty, if not even more guilty about what they had done to Topanga. That Shawn probably even thought Cory and Topanga would still be together and happy if he'd just lived somewhere else. Cory wondered how long it would take to convince Shawn that wasn't true. Especially because he wasn't completely sure that Shawn wasn't right. If they hadn't moved to New York, Cory was pretty sure that he and Topanga would still be together. "Happy" became a little more subjective. He'd been happy with Topanga back in Philadelphia. Content. Not as happy as he was with Shawn, not nearly, but not _unhappy_.

He just couldn't go back over everything he'd done to her. Everything he lied to her about, everything he had done wrong. Not again. New York was huge, even NYU was huge, the chances that he'd run into Topanga ever again were tiny and the chances that he'd run into her often were minute. If he concentrated very, very hard, he could let this one chance run-in go. He could avoid Topanga and not hurt Topanga by pushing her, and not hurt Shawn by poking his finger directly into his lover's insecurities.

His phone rang from the bedroom. He mentally prepared to be innuendoed at by Eric but was surprised to see "Parents" on the front screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, kiddo," His mom greeted him, "Is this a bad time?"

"No, I'm just doing some dishes," he sat down on the bed, kicking his toes into the floor, "What's up?"

"Well, we just thought we should check in on you, now that things have settled down a little bit," it was his Dad.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey Cory. So how are things going in the big city?" Alan asked, just like he had last time.

"Good. Things are good."

"Anything exciting planned for New Years?" Amy asked.

"We're going to Eric's big New Year's bash. Apparently his roommate's having so many celebrities over that no one's even going to notice me, Shawn, Margot and all of Margot's friends."

"Sounds like fun. How is Shawn?" Alan asked.  _Well, that's friendly_ , Cory thought. He was about to answer when he heard the front door burst open.

"Cory!" Shawn yelled, "Cory!"

"In here!" Cory shouted back. He heard Shawn's running footsteps thunder into the bedroom and found himself suddenly and shockingly tackled onto the bed under Shawn's weight. He heard the phone hit the headboard. Shawn kissed him with a loud cartoon smack then pulled back, waving a letter in his face.

"I won," He announced breathlessly, "I entered a writing contest and I won!" he kissed Cory again, "Everyone's whose boyfriend is getting _published_ , take off your pants!"

Cory grabbed Shawn's hands at his belt, "Shawn-"

"What?" Shawn giggled getting Cory's belt half unbuckled, "Usually you don't even need a reason."

"Shawn!"

Shawn let go, the smile slid off his face, "What's wrong, baby?"

"Hi, Shawn," Amy called from phone, which was propped against the headboard, "Hi, Shawn," Alan echoed.

Shawn blanched pure, deathly white, "Hi… Mr. and Mrs. Matthews…" He carefully peeled himself off of Cory and sat down facing the open phone, legs crossed, and folded hands resting against his feet, "How's it going?"

"Just dandy, Shawn," Alan answered. He sounded kind of aggrieved, but not… how he'd sounded the night he found out.

Cory did his belt buckle up as silently as possible before sitting back up and grabbing the phone.

"Uh- let me put you on speakerphone," Cory said. It took him a couple of tries.

"Published huh? That's exciting," Amy said after Cory had finally figured it out, her mom voice on overdrive.

"Yeah… very… excited," Shawn managed, mortified, "I'm gonna get some water… in the kitchen… for a while," he stammered. He got up off the bed mouthing "I'm so sorry," to Cory and disappeared into the kitchen.

"So… things with Shawn are going well?" Amy asked, tacking on an awkward laugh. Cory let out a sigh of relief.

"Yes. Yes they are."

"Well. Good," Alan offered. Cory was sure he'd imagined the sound of his mother nudging him in the ribs before he'd said it.

"Thanks."

"So how did this whole publishing thing happen?"

"I have no idea. I knew he'd given some people at the coffee-house stuff, but I didn't know he was sending anything out. Could I actually-" oh god he hoped they didn't think he was hanging up on them to go have sex, "Can I call you guys back later? I have to find out how this all happened."

"Yeah, sure," Amy said, "Go find out about it."

"Give a call back with the… give us a call back," Alan said.

There was a definite "yeah, 'go find out'" tone to their voices, but they didn't sound… they sounded teasing not… whatever.

"Kay, talk to you guys later," Cory said, then, feeling awkward about it, tagged on, "Love you."

"You too."

He turned the phone off, then checked to make damn sure it was off several times and went into the kitchen to see Shawn holding onto the letter with both hands as though it was going to lunge out of his arms and fly away.

"I'm so sorry, Cor. I didn't know- Is everything-"

"Forget it Shawnie, everything's fine. You're getting published?" He wrapped his hands around Shawn's neck and brought their lips together, "You didn't even tell me that you'd entered anything!"

"Yes I did," Shawn snorted, "I told you and your parents, at your house."

"Right. I was totally listening to that and not panicking about… you know anything. It's your poetry right?"

"Short story," Shawn shrugged an ear-to-ear grin spreading across his face.

"Can I see the letter?"

Shawn unclenched the letter and handed it to Cory, who read it and set it on the counter.

"I am so damn proud of you," he announced fiercely, pulling Shawn closer by the front of his shirt and kissing him, "Do I get to read it?"

"Really?" Shawn was flat out glowing now. God he was beautiful like this, "Yeah! Yeah you can read it."

"We were going to celebrate first, right?" Cory asked kissing him again, "I remember something about boyfriends of authors taking off their pants?"

"Sorry about that," Shawn blushed.

In response Cory grinned at him, unbuckled his belt, dropped his jeans and stepped out of them offering his hand out to Shawn who took it and let himself be pulled back into the bedroom, which Cory was beginning to lose hope he would ever have cleaned.

"Cory?" Shawn ventured as Cory started undressing him.

"Yes, darling?" Cory murmured, finishing with the buttons and sliding the shirt off. He really hoped Shawn wasn't about to bring up something serious. He sounded like he was heading into serious territory. Maybe it wouldn't count as kissing his way out of the conversation if Cory had started undressing him before he started talking. Cory dug his hands a little harder into Shawn's back, hoping to distract him.

"There's… there's money in this."

"So proud of you," Cory repeated, tugging at Shawn's belt.

"It's-" Shawn gasped and tripped over his thought as Cory scraped his teeth along his shoulder, "It's… it's enough… to help-"

"Help with what, Shawn?" Cory asked, beginning to guide Shawn back towards the bed.

"Sending you back to school."

Cory froze and pulled away from Shawn, leaving his hands still gently gripping Shawn's protruding hip bones, "Shawnie- it's your money."

"It's our money."

Why was Shawn allowed to do that with his eyes- in what world was that fair?

"And between this and the money you got from selling you know," Shawn's voice dropped to an uncomfortable whisper, "your wedding rings, with a couple decent scholarships- returning to school, LGBT student stuff, independent status- you can finish your degree."

Cory wrapped a hand around Shawn's cheek, "Shawnie…you've been taking care of me since we got here, rent, groceries- for me  _and_ ," he covered up what would have been too easy a segue into yet another conversation he didn't want to have, "You don't have to do this."

Shawn pulled away from Cory's hand a little, "I want to. I want to take care of you."

"I don't have the money from the rings," Cory admitted. Shawn faltered.

"Oh," he bit back was clearly an inquiry as to where the hell that much money had gone.

"Aren't you going to ask where it is, isn't that ours?" Cory demanded, shocked that Shawn hadn't pushed the issue at all.

"We can still do this," Shawn said too quickly, that meant he was either pissed or hurt, and Cory wasn't quite sure which, "A couple loans and if we move to a smaller place -"

"We've only got two rooms now-"

"-or maybe university housing or something- you could go. You said you were thinking of going back to school and…and the restaurant thing has gotten… less than ideal-"

Cory took Shawn's face back in his hand and this time Shawn pressed his cheek harder into it, "That is not your fault Shawn."

"I know," Shawn said, not meeting his eyes, which meant he didn't actually believe it,

"What about  _your_ degree?"

"Cory… I don't think I'm really college material. I didn't want to go that badly, I didn't do that well while I was there- and I really think I can do this Cory."

"Shawnie… you are college material. You did fine. You should take your own money and go back to school."

"You don't think I can be a writer do you?" Shawn turned the eyes back on full force, and Cory felt the horrible dead weight drop into stomach the way it did every time he accidently hurt Shawn.

"No. I know you can," he kissed Shawn, "Seriously, I believe that. But college would be good for you. You were ditching high school classes to get to college classes. Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

"Okay, we don't have to make any decisions about this now. But please- it's an option, okay?"

"And it's an option for you too right?"

"Okay."

Cory pressed his other hand into Shawn's other cheek and held his head still, kissing Shawn slowly, easing his lover's mouth open carefully before dropping his hands back to Shawn's hips.

"I don't deserve you."

Shawn's cheeks instantly rosed into a vehement pink, and Cory wondered why as he wrapped Shawn tightly in his arms and felt the tension melt out of him.

 


	16. Inertia

"Shawnie… you are college material. You did fine. You should take your own money and go back to school," Cory told him, rubbing a thumb against his cheek. Shawn suddenly wished he'd shaved today.

"You don't think I can be a writer do you?" Shawn asked before he could stop himself. He knew that wasn't fair. Not after everything Cory had said tonight. Cory had completely brushed off the fact that Shawn had practically tried to blow him in front of his parents and now he was out here telling him he was college material. Cory gave him a hurt look.

"No. I know you can," Cory kissed him, "Seriously, I believe that."

Shawn felt the scary warm starting up in his chest again, but the fact that Cory always managed to kick start it was starting to scare him less.

"But college would be good for you. You were ditching high school classes to get to college classes. Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."

Cory was too stubborn for a full frontal attack and Shawn knew he'd lost this one. Besides the warmth in his chest was quickly spreading down. He'd try again later. Maybe he'd try again  _after_. He'd figured out Cory's kissing distraction trick really early on, but Cory'd only had two weeks to figure out that Shawn had figured out that Cory was much more easily persuaded after he came.

"Okay, we don't have to make any decisions about this now. But please- it's an option, okay?"

"And it's an option for you too right?"

"Okay."

Yeah, there was no way Shawn could keep this conversation going, not when Cory was kissing him like he was savoring him, running his hands down Shawn's body, gripping his hips. Then Cory pulled back, looked him in the eye and said-

"I don't deserve you."

Shawn felt the blood hit his cheeks like a tidal wave as Cory wrapped his arms around Shawn's back. Cory had done this for him every night since Shawn had admitted that it made him feel safe. It was usually like a full body sigh, like Cory's arms could ring all of his insecurities and daily tensions and shortcomings right out of him and just leave him warm while he sagged against him in relief.

But tonight there was a letter on the counter that was written-check enclosed- proof that he was good at something. Talent.  _Worthy_. And he was definitely warm. Shawn pulled back from Cory's arms, grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed him hard.

"We're getting back to celebrating then?" Cory responded, a little stunned.

"Now," Shawn kissed down Cory's neck, "Now. I need you to touch me now."

"Can do." Cory managed.

And with that little bit of romance, Shawn started pushing Cory back through the bedroom, stumbling, stepping on each other's feet and falling back onto the bed in a tangle. Cory started crab walking back onto the bed and Shawn followed, still kissing him as he moved, not caring that their teeth knocked together when the movement didn't coordinate quite right. Cory dropped into the pillows and Shawn dropped on top of him already rocking their hips together, looking for the angle that made Cory make that sound in the back of his throat.  _There_  it was.

"God, I hope you start getting published all the time," Cory moaned.

Maybe they didn't have to talk about Topanga. Maybe it didn't matter, maybe they didn't have to deal with it. Maybe it could just be this- Cory saying wonderful things and holding him so tight it was like he was trying to pull Shawn inside of himself, like he was doing now, hand's scrabbling down Shawn's bare back. And Topanga and the missing ring money didn't have to matter. That was Cory's anyway, Cory could do what he wanted with it. It was none of Shawn's business.

Shawn dug his fingers under Cory's waistband trying to kiss him and pull his boxers off at the same time and failing miserably. He pulled off and they each made quick work of what little remained of their clothing. Cory threw back the covers and they both scooted underneath before Shawn collapsed back onto Cory, their cocks sliding velvety against each other, the friction from just their bodies pressed together not quite enough to be anything but frustrating.

"Cory," Shawn squeaked, needing more than one try to make it into complete sentence land, "Cory I-"

"Okay," Cory responded. He grabbed Shawn by the shoulder and pushed, rolling over him and pressing him down into the mattress, "Okay," he began palming Shawn's cock and Shawn clenched his fingers into Cory's other arm.

"I am so proud of you, Shawnie," Cory repeated, panting into his ear, "And I really do believe in you, and-"

"Cory!" It was a warning this time, he wasn't going to last anywhere near as long as he'd been hoping to with Cory handling him like this  _and_  talking to him like this. Cory slowed his hand and Shawn pushed himself up on his elbows to kiss him.

"And I love you," Cory whispered before sinking down Shawn's body, pulling the blankets down with him, the icy air of the apartment hitting hard on Shawn's warm skin. Cory trailed a couple of kisses along his stomach, heading lower, before Shawn stopped his descent, clapping him harder than he meant to around the jaw.

"No.

Cory froze, "No?"

"No, I ne- I want you to kiss me," Shawn managed, pulling Cory's face back up to his.

Cory smiled, obliging and starting to rub their cocks together again, "You want me to kiss you while I get you off, Shawnie?"

"Uh-huh," Shawn panted, "I mean… not that… I don't usually… love when you..."

"I know."

Shawn sunk into it, closing his eyes and concentrating on the sensation, Cory against him, Cory kissing him like this. Like Cory couldn't get enough of him, like there was something exquisite about him. Like he was special. That was pretty much the way that Cory went down on him too, but Shawn had let a lot of girls who didn't care about him- according to his one comparison with Eric an extravagant amount of girls- go down on him, and even Cory's fervor for it only made him feel desired. Being kissed like this made him feel loved.

Although having his attempt to help out shot down, and the fact that Cory was now avoiding even saying Topanga's name did tempt Shawn to take a break from kissing to blow Cory. He was far from over the Topanga jealousy and in the midst of all this weird Topanga-ness Shawn liked knowing that he had a first with Cory that was completely and totally his. That he knew how Cory tasted and she didn't.  _It's more gross and petty than romantic when you think about it like that, Hunter_. Shawn thought.

"Shawn?" The cessation of kissing and movement pulled Shawn from his reverie more than Cory's breathy voice did.

"Uh-huh."

"I've got… I mean, I went out and got…" Cory bit his lip, "Stuff."

Shawn felt a little tremor of worry run through him. He was too scattered to imagine what "stuff" might mean right now and Cory, determined never to change, didn't go slow when he was finally forced to, "What?"

Cory ducked his head a little in embarrassment, "I bought um… _personal lubricant_ , at the drugstore today."

Shawn would have laughed. The image of Cory, in a drug store, red in the face, trying to act like he was just buying a Snickers bar and then failing at nonchalantly sliding a bottle on to the counter had come to mind so fast it was like he'd seen it before. But it wasn't quite as funny when the panic started setting in.

"Oh," Shawn said, "Really?"

"Yeah, I thought- you know in case- we could have it around. And you were gone all day and I… googled a coupled things."

"Oh."

"And I could… I could kiss you if we…." Cory made the meaningless gesture that Shawn recognized from his own uncomfortable talks with Margot, but was hoping he was translating wrong.

"Right," Shawn nodded non-commitally, "That's true."

"It's in the kitchen."

Shawn snorted uncomfortably, "Why's it in the kitchen?"

Cory bit his lip again, "I hid it under the sink 'cause I wasn't sure I'd have the nerve to suggest… you know… using it. And I didn't want you to find it and be…upset or pressured or something."

"Oh," Shawn said, the panic starting to settle. Cory was just hinting. Obliquely suggesting. Clearly waiting for a go-ahead before he would actually ask Shawn if he could…  _google_  him. This wasn't like when Cory had flat out asked Shawn to blow him. Shawn could still get around this. Cory kissed him.

The reason Shawn's number of girls had practically caused Eric to slap him was that he had dated a lot of girls like himself. Girls without a lot of friends and family. Girls who didn't say no because they thought you wouldn't like them if they did. Obviously Cory wasn't that type of guy. Shawn knew –even though he had started this tonight- he could panic now, make Cory sleep on the couch tonight, and Cory would still make him breakfast in the morning. The knowledge kind of disturbed him.

Shawn found himself kissing Cory back, hard, not a little desperately. A kiss that said  _please don't leave this bed, please don't make me have to say no, please don't make me have to explain why I have to shoot you down._

A kiss that Cory, not surprisingly, misread as  _go get it, go get it, I need you now._

"Okay, I'll be right back," Cory said quickly, sliding out from under the covers, throwing them back over Shawn, and heading, a little wobbly in the knees, to the kitchen. Shawn collapsed back onto the pillows.

 _Shit_.

He didn't want to lie. He knew he could tell Cory the truth- that he wasn't ready, that he couldn't quite wrap his head around having sex with Cory just yet- and Cory would apologize and understand and wrap him up in the covers and fall asleep. But if Cory wanted to talk about it- Shawn didn't want to tell Cory that he couldn't make himself trust Cory to stick around just yet. Every time Cory hadn't let Shawn touch him (which Shawn had to admit, had been largely a possessive thing- if Cory would let Shawn touch him then he'd actually be Shawn's) for the first couple months had felt like a rejection, and he didn't want to do the same thing to Cory, but the idea of actually letting Cory…  _inside him_  with the Topanga issue still unresolved and Cory still refusing to talk about it and Shawn unable to stop worrying about it- he couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it.

"Shawn?" Cory was in the doorway, naked, hard, and somehow looming. He walked in and Shawn's heart, already pounding- kicked up, thundering as Cory climbed back into the bed, extra sheepishly deposited a tube of KY on the bedspread, wrapped an arm around Shawn and started kissing him again.

The scary happy warm in Shawn's chest started to turn too hot, to spread, boiling, out to his fingers and toes.  _You were scared to blow Cory too_ , he reminded himself,  _you know, a little less than a week ago_. But taking that leap had been fine. He'd enjoyed it. Cory had enjoyed it.  _Okay, there was some shaking and freaking out afterward_. But even that had been kind of a relief. Shawn had gotten his worries out in the open, they'd been able to talk about it. Shawn had felt better and it probably would have happened at some other, less useful, point anyway.  _But that was after he'd told his parents about me, held my hand for the whole train ride back from Philly, taken me out on our first real date._  Not when there was all this…  _stuff_ … hanging overhead.

Cory shifted, draping a thigh across Shawn, giving himself an angle that let him rub against Shawn's hip and stroke Shawn at the same time, which he did with maddening slowness, carefulness, looking into Shawn's face, into his eyes.

"You okay Shawnie?"

"Uh-huh," Shawn squeaked, nodding.  _You have to tell him, you have to tell him._  Shawn watched him, trying to keep a gauge on what was going on, waiting for some sort of movement toward the KY, wondering if maybe Cory wanted to get him off first?

"Shawn," Cory whispered finally. Shawn felt his whole body clench. He could shoot Cory down and everything would be fine- he could lie and say it was just the physical side, it was no biggie, he could say it. He  _could_. Shawn opened his mouth- Cory kissed him.

Maybe he couldn't do it.

"I'm sorry," Cory sighed, "I got a little… heated, I'm not sure we should do this yet."

Shawn felt the painful heat in his arms and legs subside, felt the boiling tide in his blood cool and wane.

"I mean," Cory smiled and shifted again pushing himself up on one arm so that his face hung over Shawn's, "Not that I don't love the idea of my sexy, brilliant," he started kissing Shawn's face in punctuation, "talented, perfect, famous author boyfriend making love to me, and not that this didn't seem like the perfect special occasion, but," he shrugged awkwardly, "Why rush right? Why are you staring at me like that?"

Shawn suddenly realized that he hadn't blinked since Cory had walked back into the bedroom and was staring at him with the kind of frozen buggy eyes usually reserved for deer in the middle of a highway with the Mac Truck bearing down on them. Cory had really planned on  _Shawn_ … _making love_  to  _him_?

"Oh, I'm just… just relieved. I didn't… I wasn't ready either."

Cory smiled again and lowered himself back down to lay by Shawn's side, "Good. I'm glad." Cory kissed him and Shawn felt like crap-What was wrong with him? How fucked up did you have to be not to trust Cory Matthews?  _He may be All American Everyman, but he's got problems too_  Shawn reminded himself,  _he lied to his parents, he lied to me. He used to lie to Topanga all of the time._

_He told her he loved her._

Cory rolled over, pulled a couple of tissues from the box on the nightstand, and rolled back to face Shawn. He kissed him again, pushing a tissue into Shawn's hand. "Come here," Cory murmured, tugging at Shawn's elbow, shifting him up on to his side, guiding Shawn's hand to his own cock before reaching for Shawn's.

Neither lasted long, and after brief cleanup and turning all the lights out for the night, Shawn found himself lying face to face with Cory, his lover's eyes closed, his hand tucked against Shawn's waist, his fingers playing lazily along Shawn's back. Shawn lay still and watched Cory fall asleep, the lights outside illuminating his face just enough to make out all his features. The movement of Cory's fingers against his back slowed gradually and finally stopped. His breath slowed and deepened. But his face didn't change. Did not become more peaceful in sleep than it had already been.

Shawn was overcome with jealousy.

* * *

"You're going to make me say it again, aren't you?" Margot demanded, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it into a chair, "I'm going to make a tape of myself repeating it over and over and over, and I'm going to make you listen to it in your sleep."

"Can we please not yell this entire conversation?" Shawn sighed, letting his head fall back against Margot's dressing room door in exasperation, "We are out in public in a room full of people and very thin walls."

"You're the one who called me and begged me to get you out of cleaning your brother in law's apartment."

Shawn beat the back of his head into the dressing room door again, "Eric is not my brother in law, I did not beg you, and I was not just getting out of cleaning."

"Right," She pulled a shirt from her pile of potentials and slipped it on. She lowered her voice and put on an unfairly nasal impression of Shawn, "I can't be in Eric's apartment all day, Margot. Give me an excuse. Seriously. Anything," then continued in her normal voice, "That is clearly neither begging nor shirking cleaning duty."

"I did not shirk!" Shawn protested, "I am not shirking, I am testing out a controlled runaway."

Margot rolled her eyes with such exaggeration she wondered if Shawn could actually hear it as she stepped out of her jeans and pulled a skirt from the hanger.

"What, pray tell, is a controlled runaway?" Margot demanded, slipping the skirt on and examining her reflection.

"Don't "pray tell" at me, I'm not being snarky at you."

"I'm not being snarky. I'm desperately interested in your neurotic bullshit, please continue."

"I'm going to make new friends, Margot, I swear to God."

Not frilly enough, she decided, shucking it and grabbing the next one before calling back through the door, "I am the only new friend you've made since you were two years old Shawn Hunter. Now-  _I prithee_ , what is a controlled runaway?"

She could definitely hear him roll his eyes through the door.

"Last night was overwhelming. I am not great at overwhelming. I get overwhelmed I-"

Margot hit him in the ass with the door as she opened it and walked out, "Dress up like a woman, carry around a purse, fall in love with your best friend?" She suggested.

"Try to run away to France on a bus, drop out of a tree with a duffle and try to bolt for who knows where, pack up my old trailer to a truck acquired under shady circumstances and drive off with no intention of coming back," he answered.

Margot twirled, "How do I look?"

"Like a cupcake with delusions of Cinderella."

Margot stuck her tongue out at him, "How do I look if I apologize for the purse/woman/love comment?"

"Like a  _pretty_  cupcake with delusions of Cinderella."

"Fine," Margot returned to the dressing room, "So- a controlled runaway?"

"Last night was… a major unexpected explosion. I needed some breathing room, and instead of flipping out, disappearing into the night and being on a train to Montana right now, I'm out with you- recouping."

"Awww, look at you. You're growing up."

"I'm serious, Margot. I'm getting better. I think my actions through better, I'm less self-destructive-"

"Let's take two guesses why that is, first one doesn't count," Margot called through the door slipping into something greener.

"Yeah, I know. It's because of him, I get that. But he's also the thing that freaks me out the most."

Margot popped her head and bare shoulders out of the dressing room, "Ask me what I'm going to say."

"I know, I know. But getting the story published and the beginning of last night with Cory are scary enough all on their own, and there's a bunch of other stuff."

"Stuff I already know or new stuff?"

"New stuff. Stuff that happened while you were off with Eric," Shawn said. He hoped it didn't sound as full of malice as it seemed like it sounded, he didn't mean it that way.

Margot didn't take any offence, "Well, I'm here now and I've got Eric stuff that I want to tell you."

"I'm not going to yell  _any_  of this through the door."

"You could come in, you know."

Shawn faltered, "While you're changing?"

"I've got my underwear on. You're my best friend. And- oh right- you're gay. What's the big deal?"

Shawn decided not to argue. Bringing up the gay issue again was going to land him right back in the land of overwhelmed and his controlled runaway plan was working so well.

"Fine, can I come in?"

Margot opened the door and ushered him in.

"How about this one?" She asked, lifting the skirt like she was going to curtsy.

"Still a little Fairy Tale-riffic, but now with this weird Leprechaun thing going on," Shawn answered. She sighed in frustration and started unbuttoning the shirt.

"So, what can't you talk about through a door?"

Shawn sighed, and told her everything.

* * *

"You don't live here!" Cory exclaimed after Eric had ushered him in and taken his coat. He wandered out onto the high pile carpeting and took in the big glass chandelier, marble countertops, huge fireplace, living room full of designer furniture and fully stocked built in bar.

"No, bro, I so do," Eric responded.

"I do  _not_  believe you Eric. This is like when you magically moved my wedding to the Philadelphia Victorian Hotel. This night's going to wind up with me naked and arrested, sitting in a jail cell, being chaffed by a much too small orange jumpsuit with a suspicious smell."

"Uh, yeah, that sounds like it's up to Shawn," Eric responded with a grin, "Where is Shawn?"

"Margot stole him to run errands for the day" Cory shrugged.

"Oh, really?" Eric said, he was pretty sure he only asked Margot to grab cups. Maybe she and Shawn were having… girlfriend time? Whatever, "Okay, you want a drink or something?"

"Do you have like, normal beer or is everything here crazy fancy?"

"Miller Light in the bigger fridge in the bar, man," Eric answered, pointing.

"Oh. Miller Light. I miss Miller Light," Cory sighed, wading through the carpeting, the sunk in living room, the Italian leather couch, the ridiculously fancy sculptures, "Shawn likes this bar a couple blocks from our place where they have like twenty thousand beers and he's determined to try all of them- the one thing they don't have? The boring beers that I like," Cory pulled the huge fridge open and took in the ludicrously large stock of liquor. He made a not to make sure he didn't get roped into cleaning up  _tomorrow_ , "You want me to grab you one?"

"Yeah, sure," Eric answered. Cory brought the beer back out to the living room and handed one to Eric.

"So where are we starting?"

"Actually," Eric set, setting back on a chez-lounge, "Andy just had someone come in to clean. All we have to do is set up decorations and we've got plenty of time," he waved Cory toward a chair next to him, "Come on, sit, brother bonding time."

"Alright, yeah," Cory nodded, sipping his beer, "So. How are things going with Margot?"

"Incredible. She's completely amazing. I can't believe how much I like being around her. I love the weirdest things about her. Like- she has the most beautiful voice. Sometimes she's talking, and I'm listening so hard I miss what she's saying. I could seriously kill Shawn for not introducing us the second he met her."

"Weren't you sleeping with supermodels when Shawn met Margot?"

"It was one supermodel," Eric rolled his eyes, "I only slept with two of Andy's glamazons. A supermodel and a movie star."

"Glamazons?"

"It's a word. A descriptor in fact."

"Which movie star?"

"I'm not going to tell you that. I'm a gentleman," Eric said, "Although, and I know this information doesn't do you any good- cause you're pretty much married again- I feel I should warn you- Do Not Sleep with Movie Stars. Scariest fucking experience of my life."

"Wait, what does that mean?"

"You- you're essentially married again, don't pretend like you're not."

"No, got that, why was it the scariest experience of your life?"

"No. Not yet," Eric wagged his finger at his little brother, "Ask me again tonight after I've had a couple of drinks. Anyway. Margot- things are going well," He smiled a little dopily, "We said "I love you" last night."

"Really? It's only been two weeks."

"Doesn't take everybody 20 years, Cory."

It was Cory's turn to smile dopily. He took another sip from his beer.

"Also- didn't you tell Topanga that you loved her on your first date?"

"Totally different thing," Cory waved his beer dismissively, "Unless you end up finally admitting you're in crazy, adoring love with Jason or Jack in the next ten years- you don't get to use that on me."

"Jack Hunter is a handsome man."

Cory snorted, "Yeah- why don't you keep that one to yourself. Dad doesn't need any more reasons to hate the Hunters."

Eric flopped more comfortably into his seat, "Dad does not hate Shawn."

"Dad has never liked Shawn. I don't think the divorce and the aforementioned crazy-adoring love helped that."

"Yeah," Eric started picking at the label on his bottle, "Dad doesn't like Shawn, you can tell by all the times that he's called him family, taken him in, gone out of his way to help him."

"Things change, Eric," Cory sighed.

"Oh shut up with your drama," Eric cut him off, wondering who in the hell Cory had inherited the drama gene from and hoping that Morgan managed to escape it like he had, "They called here after they called you. I heard what happened. It's only been two weeks Cory- they are very uncomfortable, they are surprised, they are dealing. They  _want_  to be happy for you- give them time."

Cory didn't respond. He stared at his beer and picked at the label, "I don't make  _you_  uncomfortable do I?"

Eric snorted, "Cory, my roommate and all my friends are gay-"

"No, I know, but this isn't… different at all is it?"

"Look man, I'm not uncomfortable, I've got nothing to deal with, and I was never surprised. I told Jack this was going happen years ago."

"Could have told me," Cory laughed.

"Too afraid of Topanga," Eric replied with a smile, "Have you…" he coughed weirdly, "Like- seen her at all?"

Cory bit his lip and hesitated for a second before admitting in a rush, "Shawn and I were out the other night and we totally fucked up her date. It was awful and I am trying not to think about it, so hard, you have no idea."

"So… you're obsessing about it."

"I'm not-"

"Cory-come on!" Eric cried suddenly, "I've met you before- You really think that you're going to get over this by bottling it up? You're going to explode, killing many innocent bystanders. That's what you do."

Cory grabbed his beer in both hands and leaned toward Eric, "Look Eric- I appreciate the big brother thing you have going on here, and trust me- I get that you aren't wrong. But I'm serious- I don't want to talk about the Topanga thing. I don't want to deal with the Topanga thing. It's a huge fucking city- I'm not going to run into her again- I don't have to deal with it."

"You have to deal with it-"

"No!" Cory stood up, "I really, really don't-"

"Cory-"

"Look- there's nothing that I can say to her to make this okay- nothing," Cory said, "And even if some miraculous wisdom drops out of the sky and I can find anything to say that makes her hate me just a little bit less- what am I going to do? Call her and see if she wants to grab a cup of coffee? Topanga makes Shawn really upset and we had this weird thing last night and it was completely my fault, and I'm not gonna push him right now."

Eric expelled a deep sigh, "Okay. I'm hearing you loud and clear," he took a long pull at his beer, "I have to make a phone call."

* * *

Topanga dreams she's trapped in a warehouse, lost in the endless, ill illuminated aisles. She spins around, looking for a way out of the aisle she stand in which is spilling over with veils and rotting dead flowers. She starts to walk down the aisle, speeding up when she realizes she can't see a far wall, running until she's out of breath, stopping when she realizes she still can't see a wall.

She ducks sideways through the rack of veils, brushing the netting, silk, beads, pearls, and disintegrating flora out of her way. The next aisle is fine spotless china and stacks of dirty dishes. As far as the eye can see in either direction.

She ducks through another rack, spilling soggy cornflake milk on her shirt. Sequins and condoms in the next aisle- another spill, sequin's clinging to the wet spots on her clothes. Another aisle, fruit baskets and hampers of dirty laundry, she keeps going, hoping that she's beat the system, if she can't find the end of the endless aisles maybe she can still hope to hit a wall. She topples a fruit basket and big, round, red apples rain down on her, bruising her. She picks one up and winces her way to the next aisle.

White wedding dresses all along one side.

Fucking Bloody Crimson Dresses all along the other.

The exit at the end of the aisle, where red letters blare out of the white box above a door. There's some sort of sound coming from it.

Topanga carefully sets down the apple, and starts to undress. She's covered in soggy cornflakes and rotten flowers and glitter and bits of squashed fruit. She throws the dirty shirt to the floor, accidently covering the apple. The shirt disappears, the apple stays. She reaches down, grabs it, and takes a huge bite out of it, juice running down her chin. She pulls back long enough to see the apples white guts, glaring out of the deep red skin

She wakes up.

* * *

The gentle knocking at Topanga's door isn't quite enough to wake her fully, but the voice calling her name on the other side of it was.

"Topanga? Topanga are you home?"

 _Time to face the music_ , She thought, throwing her bright red comforter off of herself, brushing the wrinkles of her white shirt, and heading toward the door.

 


	17. The Balcony in Literature

Let's take a second to consider the place of the balcony in literature. Juliet hangs over her balcony as Romeo professes his love to her and is forbidden from swearing on the moon. Cyrano spews poetry for Christian to relay up to Roxanne on her balcony. Balconies are the architectural feature of love.

The legacy of romance carried to the balcony outside Eric's bedroom is somewhat diminished by a light saber propped up in one corner, the forgotten sandwich in one of the wrought iron chairs and the two incredibly gaudy neon pink mojito glasses teetering on the ledge.

But Cory and Topanga are too busy kissing on it to consider any of these things.

* * *

Maritza was standing in the hallway brandishing a curling iron when Topanga opened the door.

"Ready?" She demanded seriously. Her tone indicated that she did not think that hair styling was a matter to be taken lightly.

"I'm ready," Topanga assured her.

"You're not wearing the dress," Maritza observed.

"I can't get my hair done in pants?"

"I just thought I'd at least get to see this dress I've heard so much about."

Topanga's grin felt rather put on, but she allowed it to slide onto her face anyway as she stepped back into the room and toward the wardrobe. Maritza followed. Topanga had finally reached her final decision last night, taken the dress out of the box and hung it from the wardrobe to let the small wrinkles out of it so that its full effect could be unleashed at the party.

"Damn girl," Maritza exclaimed running her fingers lovingly along the skirt, "This calls for more than a little bit of curl," She whirled around, "Oh my god- I've got it. We're going down to the costume shop and doing you up 50's glamour style."

"The costume shop?" Topanga asked uncertainly.

"Yeah. I work there. I've got keys. The whole makeup table and all of the period styling books are at our disposal. Plus we just did "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof". I know exactly what I'm doing." She began directing Topanga out of the door with the curling iron, "You are going to blow Gaheris out of the fucking water tonight."

"Yeah," Topanga nodded, "Thanks for helping me out with this, Maritza."

Maritza let out a self-exasperated little laugh, "Yeah, well, I guess I'm a terrible romantic. Big dress, big date, big ball, sounds too good and you know the rest."

"Yeah," Topanga sighed locking her dorm room behind her.

"We had better hurry though. This is going to be a little more intricate than what I thought we were doing and we've got to get you ready before your prince and pumpkin get here," Maritza declared, guiding her down the hallway.

"It was a carriage."

"What?"

"The night started with a carriage and a prince. It ended with a pumpkin and only one shoe."

Maritza patted Topanga's shoulder with her free hand.

"You really can't let that kind of negative thinking in. It's New Years. It's about beginnings. Now let's go. Your prince and your carriage/pumpkin/taxi await you."

* * *

Cory hadn't realized how much he missed hanging out with the guys. Granted- grabbing a burger or a beer with Shawn while never quiet managing to realize that he'd always been in love with him may not have counted as "Guy's Night". But it had to be closer to a guy's night than sitting in his brother's bathroom, wearing a nylon cape, and drinking a cocktail served with a leaf in it while Eric soaked his fingernails in a bowl of something that smelled really girly and Carlisle gently explained why the beard had to go.

"Because your hair is too short."

"He can't grow it out," Eric asserted, "You don't even want to know."

"And your hair being this short makes the beard way too bushy and if you trim the beard it's either going to look like your hair is taking over your face or like your beard is taking you're your head. Brunette astro-turf on the prowl."

Andy snorted behind his hand and daintily took a sip of his drink.

Andy was essentially what Cory had been expecting. About Eric sized, and despite having given Eric most of his clothing, still Eric styled. And, though Cory felt really weird about thinking this, shrieking-pink-neon-leading-his-own-float-in-the-parade-gay.

Carlisle, however, had been a shock. Cory was uncomfortably aware that he couldn't stop noticing how attractive the guy was. He was easily six foot seven, handsome, brunette and looked fully capable of throwing some form of live stock over his shoulders and strolling casually along the farm with it. He had dressed up in nice jeans and a red dress shirt. There was nothing about him that in anyway indicated that he was a… hairdresser. The two of them distinctly bookended a spectrum of gay and Cory wondered where he fell in it. And where Shawn fell in it. And why he couldn't just keep his beard.

"Shawn likes it," Cory said, not quite whining.

"When he remembers to shave and loses his protective stubble layer," Eric chimed in from his bowl of nail soaking stuff, "Your bear rubs his face red and you can always tell when you two have been going at it."

"When do you ever see Shawn?" Cory demanded.

"I don't," Eric answered matter of factly, "When he gets to work, Margot texts me so that she doesn't laugh at him, and she gives John and Agnes a quarter not to mention it every time. Hilarious."

"Beard burn is always funny," Andy agreed from where he was lounging in the door way, "Except when it's on one of your models who already looked like a Q-tip before the designer put her in that hat."

"Yeah. I saw those pictures. That Marc Jacob dude designed some ugly shit this season."

Cory entertained the thought of later telling Margot that her boyfriend was gayer than his, and then realized how uncomfortable he would be saying it out loud in the current company.

"Eric, we don't want to start the party with Cory telling Margot that her boyfriend is gayer than his, okay?" Carlisle said gently. Eric rolled his eyes, took his fingers out of the bowl and began drying them and pushing back his cuticles in an unconcernedly manly way.

"You know what? Whatever. Margot's going to put a lot of effort into dressing up tonight, that's enough justification for me not to just spray on some deodorant and pick a shirt up off a pile on the floor," Eric sighed, " _And_  if you guys get to be secure in your sexuality so do I."

"Honey, I don't think I've ever met anyone securer in their sexuality than you are," Andy commented.

"It's true," Carlisle agreed.

"Speaking of piles of shirts on the floor- your room has been conspicuously spotless recently," Andy smiled coyly, (Cory tried to pretend he didn't notice the very obvious lisp), "Are you still trying to get Margot into bed or are you at the hiding-how-messy-you-really-are-so-she-comes-back stage?"

"Respect of girlfriend law coming into play," Eric announced, raising a scolding finger and giving Carlisle an especially severe look, "Margot and I did sleep together. It was great. I made her berry waffles in the middle of the night, and that is all the information you vultures get."

Cory smiled, remembering these same types of conversations with Shawn back in high school. Except that he never had details and told them all to Shawn anyway. Being in love with your best friend had a lot of high points, but did leave you without a best friend to talk to about being in love.

"Come on," Carlisle rolled his eyes, "I've met Margot, she'd totally let you tell us more than that. Plus I put some hard-core effort into helping you get those details and I totally deserve them."

"Then ask her when she gets here," Eric said, "She can decide what gets said about her in the locker room talk."

"This isn't exactly locker room talk, dear," Andy waved his glass around the bathroom, encompassing Cory's pre shave and a hair cut status, Eric's self manicure and four gaudy pink glasses, "And once Margot does get here it'll be girl talk and she can tell us  _absolutely anything_."

"That's still up to her," Eric answered back. He opened one of the drawers under the sink and grabbed some sort of nail instrument that Cory didn't recognize and began to use it with a distinct air of bemused heterosexuality.

"Fine. If Eric's going to be such a fucking noble son of a bitch- how about you Cory? Tell us about the first time with this Shawn," Andy grinned and wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

"Or really any good stories about him," Carlisle said, "And while you start that, I'm going to trim your hair and then you are going to say goodbye to the beard."

Cory felt himself flush, "I'm not sure any of those would be would be stories you tell to your brother," Cory stammered.

"No, kinda want to hear it," Eric said.

Cory was shocked, "Really?"

"Uh. Yeah," Eric shrugged, "I told you. Not uncomfortable, nothing to deal with. Why wouldn't I want to hear your story? If it was a girl we'd already be having this conversation. Spit it out."

Cory did. All activity in the bathroom came to a screeching halt.

"You haven't done it yet?" All three guys demanded.

"How long have you been together?" Carlisle inquired.

"Since the first week of October."

"Honey-" Andy took another gulp of his mojito, "There's back story there. Something's going on."

"It's not "back story"," Cory protested, "There's no "back story". We're just… it's not right yet."

"Bro- three months? Come on."

"What?" Cory demanded, "We do other stuff. Stuff I'm getting  _really good_  at. And three months isn't that long."

"It is for men," Carlisle shouted.

"And Shawn's kind of a slut," Eric said.

"Heyhey- what happened to the respect rule?"

"Doesn't apply to little brother's snot nosed friend. If you and Margot were as good of friends as Shawn and Margot then you could get away with that."

"You and Shawn were never friends!"

"But I've known him as long as you. Plus-roommates. Privilege stands," Eric declared, "Although, be warned, call Margot a slut and risk the ass-kicking of a lifetime."

In the mirror Cory saw Carlisle give Eric the chagrined smile of the friend who has already heard way too much about the doted upon girlfriend and saw Andy roll his eyes before returning them to Cory's face.

"So, honey, what's going on?"

Cory bit his lip and looked around the room, realized how badly he needed some support and advice from someone he wasn't trying to sleep with, and plowed forward dismally.

"We almost had sex last night," Cory said feeling himself start to blush, "He got a story published and he was all over me, I brushed off this really horrifying thing where I was on the phone with my parents and he got home and jumped me, and then things seemed to be going really well and I told him that I got… you know…stuff… and-"

"Stuff?" Andy asked.

Cory felt his blush begin to burn, "You know  _stuff_ ," he started making the uncomfortable flailing arm gesture that this time he belatedly realized had taken on a thrusting motion, "Stuff… for… that."

"Wait, what stuff is this?" Eric asked teasingly.

"Yeah, what do you use this stuff for Cory?" Andy asked.

"Lube. Come on guys, give him a break," Carlisle said, taking a little brush out of his bag and brushing the hair off of Cory's neck, "So you told him you bought lube and?"

"And he just attacked me, and I thought hey- good thing I prepared for this huh? But then I went to get it and he froze up- like rigor mortis froze up."

"What did you do?" Carlisle asked, returning the brush and pulling a trimmer and an old fashioned straight razor out of the same bag.

"I slowed things down. I was just gonna kiss him until he either calmed down or told me he'd changed his mind, and I asked him if he was okay- so that he had a chance to say no to me, and he didn't, and then I realized that he was panicking, but was going to let me do it anyway. So I told him that I wasn't ready and  _let him_   _know_  that I want… I want him… Iwanthimtodoittome," Cory spat out quickly, before another round of teasing broke out, "Cause I thought maybe that was his hang up, which I would get, but then he just said that he was relieved and we fell asleep," Cory glanced around inquiringly, "So…is that bad? What do you think it means?"

The three reflected faces refused to meet Cory's reflected eyes.

"This Shawn was a lady's man in highschool?" Andy started.

"It's not that," Eric interrupted instantly, "Shawn totally wants you. You know what it probably is? The history. And commitment issues. Shawn Hunter is one big giant commitment issue."

"I've never heard of commitment issues being an issue in sex," Andy announced.

"Yeah, well, you're kind of a slut too," Eric said. Andy shrugged.

"It's not like I don't know that Shawn's one big commitment issue. I mean, as long as it took him not to run away from Angela. That's why…" Cory trailed off.

"What?" Carlisle asked, "That's why what?""

"Never mind," Cory sighed, "Let's get this beard shaving over with before I change my mind."

* * *

"Shawnie, I promise, swear and vow to you-"

"Don't call me Shawnie," Shawn interrupted, the tiniest hint of exasperation in his voice.

Margot groaned in frustration and restrained herself from throwing herself dramatically back onto the bed. She remained perched on the small corner of the bed which she figured was probably the cleanest part.

"Cory's going to see you in this outfit, and instantly be concentrating so hard on not tearing of all of your clothes in the middle of the party, that there is not one single molecule of his brain that is going to notice the damn cufflinks."

Shawn sighed, picked momentarily at the French cuff's of the shirt that Margot had forced him to buy, and fished the small golden cardboard box out of the back of his completely empty sock and underwear drawer. They really had to move to a place closer to a Laundromat. He opened the box and dumped the cufflinks into his hand, then looked up at Margot again. While Shawn had showered, shaved, and run a little bit of wax through his hair, (another dress up thing Margot had pretty much forced upon him that made him feel a little gayer than he was comfortable feeling) Margot had dithered about whether she should put on her dress here and make a grand entrance, or if she should wear her warm pants and boots over there, and then change in the bathroom. She'd decided to change here while Shawn worried about the cufflinks and tried to avoid looking at her… umm….  _bouncing_  as she hopped and pulled and snapped her way into the blue lace teddy she was wearing under the dress. Now she was sitting on his and Cory's bed in a blue frilly layer cake of a dress, looking for all the world as though she'd just finished hanging a rope made of her long hair out the window and was just waiting for a hunk with a sword and a horse to climb up it.

"I feel really weird about wearing cufflinks that Topanga picked out for her and Cory's wedding to a party that I am going to as Cory's boyfriend the night after I almost had sex with him. I'm honestly not sure why I even still have them."

"If you're that hung up about it, I've got some at my place, but we're already late, I don't want to try and get two taxis on New Years, Cory and Eric are already there, I'm not walking in this dress and I'm not taking it off and then squeezing myself back into this fucking teddy again," she held a hand to her flattened stomach and made a face.

"No one wants that," Shawn agreed. Okay- maybe a little bisexual after all. He may not actually want Margot, but a man could only take so much of trying not to watching a beautiful jumping naked woman in ridiculously sexy underwear. And he'd never seen a teddy before.

"So suck it up and let's go!" Margot urged.

Shawn sighed, shuffling the cuff links between his hands a couple of times.

"Okay," he said finally, "Can you help me though?"

"Sure," Margot stood, smoothed her frilly skirt and took Shawn's right wrist.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were a virgin," Shawn announced, "After all the personal sex stuff you make me tell you."

"I don't make you tell me anything," Margot responded quietly, "You love having a confidant."

"What made you feel like you could do it?" Shawn asked her, "Lose your long prized virginity to Eric? After two weeks," The sarcasm was minimal. He'd been looking for a way to ask ever since she'd told him.

"Two and a half weeks," Margot said, "And I hate that phrase."

"Sorry. How about finely matured virginity?"

"Not that. I didn't  _lose_  shit. I  _gave_  it to him. We  _shared_  it. Like a fine wine, my _matured_  virginity is something we both enjoyed, leaving a pleasant after effect," Shawn saw the smile spreading over Margot's face, "Very pleasant."

"I just seized up last night, " Shawn told her as Margot began fiddling with his left cuff, "I mean- once you've had someone's… you know,  _stuff_ , in your  _mouth_ , it seems so stupid to get all weird about pretty much anything else. And we're in love. And I did  _want_  to do it. Mostly."

"It's not stupid," Margot said, finishing with Shawn's cufflinks and taking his hands in her own, "It's that last threshold-"

"The final frontier?"

"Could you not quash the attempt at poetry author boy?"

"Sorry."

"It's the last threshold. It's that last step to take. It's that final seal and I get why you're terrified-"

"You weren't terrified."

"You aren't me, baby."

Shawn opened his mouth to reply and then shut it again. Margot continued.

"Cory's your best and oldest friend, your lover, to be perfectly practical your roommate and I can hear how you talk about him- your rock, your student, nearly your savior in a couple of those stories."

Shawn scoffed. Margot looked up into his eyes and he bit his lip apologetically, "He is everything that you have, and you're afraid that if you give up this little smidge of doubt you're clinging to, he'll envelope you completely."

"I think Cory enveloped me a long time ago," Shawn admitted, in less than half a whisper, Margot held his hands a little bit tighter.

"He's always been the one person that hasn't left you, and things have changed and now you're afraid that if you let that one last barrier go, you're giving him power not just to abandon you, but erase you. You think if you give him anything else of you there won't be anything left."

"Is the next part of this going to be nut-up, be-happy, get-over-it?" Shawn asked, his suddenly dry mouth making it a raspy question and preventing him from making it as lighthearted as he'd intended to make it.

"Pretty much," Margot said gently, "Cause I promise you, Shawn- you enveloped him first. I can hear the way he talks about you too. As far as he's concerned when you're in a room you are the only thing in it."

"He used to tell Topanga he loved her all the time. He married her," Shawn said surprised he was voicing all these fears out loud.

Margot's phone rang from her purse. She grabbed it off the bed and hit the silent button, "Who was he holding at the altar? Who does he  _still_  say he loves. Who does he wake up with Shawn?"

"You can answer that," Shawn said. She gave him a little smile and walked into the kitchen. He could hear her saying "Yeah, we're hurrying" into her phone as she disappeared through the door.

Shawn shook himself. Serious Margot was a little intense. Maybe she knew that. He deposited the now empty cufflink box into his empty sock and underwear drawer pushed it closed and pulled open Cory's sock drawer underneath it. Cory only had two pairs of clean socks, both wound up into little sock balls. Shawn hoped he wouldn't mind, grabbed one and began unrolling it.

There was something inside it. Something hard and sort of square-ish. Shawn tipped the sock's contents out onto the dresser. He recognized the small fuzzy cream colored box that fell out of it. The little gold leaf "M" on the top. The small singe mark on the corner from one of Eric's many attempts at proving how perfect he was for the role of best man. Topanga's wedding ring was in this box.

The one that Cory had told Shawn he'd sold. The one that Cory had given Shawn a ball park figure for. The one that he obviously didn't have the money from because it was right here. In Cory's sock drawer. In his and Shawn's bedroom. This was one hell of a keepsake.

"Hey," Margot walked back in and Shawn instantly dropped the box back into the drawer and closed it. The tiniest "tink" sound as it fell blasted away the teeny hope forming in Shawn's mind that the box might just be empty.

"Eric said that Cory's demanding we bring him his own dress clothes. Apparently he didn't get the memo that the party was a little on the fancy side, so Andy and Carlisle dressed him up and now he won't leave Eric's room. I shudder to think what those boys have done to him."

Shawn gave her a completely fake smile and mechanically went to his and Cory's closet. He rifled through for the one dress shirt he'd ever seen Cory actually wear and handed it to Margot, who folded it neatly and tucked it under her arm.

"Okay. Boyfriend's dignity saved. You ready?"

"Almost," Shawn said, still raspy with dry mouth. He sat down on Margot's same corner of the bed, rolled on the borrowed socks, tied his waiting shoes and took Margot by the arm.

"Do you need one more repetition of nut-up-be-happy-get-over-it before we go?" She asked, with much more of the serious Margot tone to her voice than her usual teasing one.

"Yeah," Shawn sighed, "At least one."


	18. The Red, Lilac, White and Blue

He'd brought her a rose.

Topanga wasn't quite sure why  _that_  was what stuck out to her. Gaheris dressed to the nines seemed like a thing much more likely to catch attention - his long curly red hair slicked back, his normal worn t-shirts replaced by a slick striped suit that did wonders for his broad shoulders and slim waist. He'd set his large, warm, hands against her, one at her waist, one against her neck and kissed her. He'd even dropped the rose and stammered for a second when he'd opened the door and seen her. But it was the rose that was sticking out to her. It was a little pink tea rose; and the scent was already permeating her tiny dorm room.

"Yeh are one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen," he murmured to her, his hands still on her.

"I don't have a vase," Topanga burst out in response. She had specifically left both of her vases in what was now Cory and Shawn's apartment. Either of them would be much more likely to get flowers than her.

"I'll get a cup," Gaheris offered, grabbing a clean one from the small stack on her microwave. He went over to the small sink in the corner of her room and filled it. She looked down at the rose. And it hit her.

What the hell was she doing?

"No," Topanga protested staring at the rose.

She hadn't asked him for a rose. That's why she couldn't get over it. This was weak. Using him to avoid being lonely, was weak.

"Topanga? Are yeh okay?"

"Why did you bring me a flower?" Topanga asked.

"What?"

"Why did you bring me a flower?"

Gaheris looked askance at her for a moment, "Did I do something wrong?"

Topanga handed the rose back to him and explained her conversation with Margot. Gaheris visibly wilted.

"Topanga… no, we're… that's not-"

"I just can't let you… can't let myself… do this Gaheris," Topanga powered through, "I get that you were trying to help me. And you did help me, and I'm not mad. Well, I'm not mad anymore, because I figured out that you helped me and it didn't seem fair to… Anyway," she moved to sweep her hair away from her face, then remembered how long it had taken to set it, "I need to rip the Band-aid off."

Gaheris spun the rose between his thumb and forefinger, watching it agitatedly.

"Topanga, it's important teh me teh help people," he admitted, "But I… I move furniture, I dress up and help my friends make their exes jealous. I wouldn't… I didn't sleep with yeh just cause yeh asked me teh, I wouldn't… yeh were… vulnerable and I didn't want…I wouldn't do that. The thing with Margot…I took her out cause she was lonely. I… I'm sorry if yeh…" he stopped spinning the rose, "I really like you. And I hurt you. I'm such a jerk."

"I'm sorry," Topanga said. An awkward pause dropped between them, "I like you too. You're not a jerk."

Gaheris brightened slightly- "Okay. So let's jest… we can jest start over," he held the rose out to her, "Topanga, you are smart and beautiful and wonderful, I like yeh, and I would love to spend New Year's Eve with yeh."

Topanga stepped toward him but didn't take the rose, "I can't go out with you tonight. There's somewhere I have to be."

Gaheris's smile grew fixed, "You make new plans quick, love."

"I have to go to Margot and Eric's party," Topanga announced, "It's not that I don't like you because I do. It's not that you're not great, because you are, but I… I let you rescue me. And I didn't think that I was the kind of girl that did that… and I can't do that right now."

"Then I jest won't. I don't  _have_  teh rescue yeh," Gaheris said.

"Yes you do. That's what you do."

"That's…" Gaheris kicked his toe into the ground sheepishly, "Okay. Yeah. That's true."

Topanga let out a breath she suddenly felt she'd been holding since she'd slept with him the first time, "Some other time, if you're still out knight errant-ing, maybe we can try again, but I need to know that I can rescue myself first."

Gaheris nodded, "So, smart, beautiful, wonderful,  _and_  strong. Jest so you know, this makes me like you more."

"I should go," she said, "It's getting late."

"Are you sure you want to go alone?"

"I have to," she said, grabbing her purse off her bed.

"Okay," Gaheris held the rose out to her again. She took it, and he carefully wrapped his arms around her, kissed the top of her head, squeezed her and went to the door.

"If you need me-"

"Gaheris."

"Right," he brushed his suit uncomfortably, "Right…well. Good luck, Topanga."

And he left.

Topanga stood alone in the room, bracing herself. After a moment she went to the sink, put the rose in the cup of water and set it by her bed. Then she grabbed her coat and walked out the door.

* * *

Eric debated for a moment before fixing himself another mojito. This would technically be his third for the night, but it was only his second for the party, which had been swinging for a little over forty-five minutes. Someone had already called their agent in drunken hysterics, the music had been turned up to easily double what they had agreed to keep it up at and the crush of the room indicated that several guests had already told friends to ditch their previous plans and come here.

Margot and Shawn were running pretty late, but he didn't want to seem drunk when they arrived. He decided to make himself a weak drink and then call to check on her.

Andy appeared in front of him, "Hey, Eric, honey, as long you're back there you want to whip me up a tequila sunrise?"

"You got it, buddy," Eric replied, grabbing the tequila from behind him. "This mean that you and Carlisle are done dressing Cory up for the party?"

"Well, mostly."

"What do you mean "mostly"?" Eric asked.

"Your brother is refusing to come downstairs," Andy admitted, tapping his fingers against the bar counter guiltily.

"What did you two do?"

"Snazzed him up. We got him some pants that actually fit and I lent him that shirt I wore to Giselle's birthday party."

"The purple thing?" Eric demanded, not noticing that he was getting pretty liberal with the tequila.

"Lilac, actually," Andy said, grabbing the bottle in Eric's hand and turning it upright.

"I told you guys not to dress him in a gay color."

"A gay color?" Andy demanded, feigning insult.

"We've discussed this, Andy," Eric sighed, pulling the orange juice out of the fridge, "A color that does not come in the Crayola twenty-four pack, is a gay color. And isn't that shirt also shiny and v-necked?"

"He looks really cute in that shirt. Your brother is hiding  _a body_  under that long-sleeve tee-shirt he came in."

"His body is taken," Eric waved a warning finger at Andy, "Give him his clothes back."

"He's going to stick out a lot more in his Target clothes than he will in a little Dolce and Gabbana," Andy protested, "And, just in the interest of science, What color is your shirt, Eric?"

Eric finished mixing Andy's drink, "It's "burnt umber", but  _I_  pull it off in a sexy, secure in my sexuality-y, Justin Timberlake-y, sort of way. And you pull lilac off in a… really-super-gay-successful-artist way. Cory's just not as cool as we are. Now, go give him his clothes back, I've got to call my beautiful girl and make sure she's going to be here in time to kiss me at midnight."

"If she doesn't make it, I'll kiss you at midnight," Andy told him with a smirk.

"I thought Carlisle already called dibs on you."

"Oh, yeah, we forgot to tell you- we broke up."

"You guys break up all the time," Eric said inserting his crazy straw back into his drink.

"This is going to be a permanent thing," Andy took a gulp of his drink with a grimace, and grabbed the grenadine, which he began dumping in his drink, "The heat's been totally gone for weeks. It's like he's coming over here to see you. We just want to play video games and hang out, Sex isn't even on the table. We're the only gays under 50 who sit in bed and talk. Well, apparently except for your brother and this Shawn. Carlisle and I are good friends, love the boy to death, but I think that's about it."

"I'm not sure if I'm flattered or offended that Carlisle would rather hang out with me than have sex with me," Eric said.

"Do you people ever talk about anything but sex?" Cory demanded, appearing behind Eric with a shimmer of lilac rage.

"You missed the part about crayons," Andy offered, "But hey- you came downstairs!

"Well, apparently someone's having a rather dramatic conversation with their agent in the bathroom down here, so the line for the bathroom outside your door was getting longer and angrier and drunker. They were practically breaking down the door. Oh, and someone threw up in the urn outside your door."

"Yeah, I've started expecting that. Plus I saw one of the models eat a shrimp earlier. It was only a matter of time," Eric shrugged.

"Well, now you can stay down here and everyone can see how sexy you look. Here, drink this," Andy passed him the ruined tequila sunrise and Cory took a huge gulp of it.

"Where the hell is Shawn?" Cory demanded.

"Cory, chill, he and Margot are just a little late. Don't get your blouse in a twist," Eric said with a smirk.

"Hey, now," Andy interjected.

"Look, I only came down here to ask you to call them, because my phone is dead. Just make the call, so that I can go back upstairs."

"Umm… alright," Eric pulled his phone out of his vest pocket with a look of concern and hit the speed dial, "Everything okay, man?"

"Fine," Cory said, the fake nonchalance in his voice even less convincing than his second huge gulp from his glass.

"Hey sweet-heart, are you guys on the way?" he gave Cory a thumbs up.

"Great. And can they bring me a man's shirt?"

Andy rolled his eyes and left the two of them in a huff.

Eric repeated the question and gave Cory another thumbs up. Cory sighed, and headed back upstairs to Eric's room. The line for the bathroom had apparently  _really_  needed to go, because they were gone. He downed the last of his drink and set the glass on Eric's nightstand before beginning to pace around the room.

"I can't believe that I'm actually worried he's not coming," Cory sighed to himself, "This is Shawn!"

"Your emotionally crippled, abandonment issue ridden boyfriend, who has a history of being a flight risk."

Cory would have jumped several feet in the air if the liquor hadn't been starting to set in, as it was, he lurched around to see a figure silhouetted in the bathroom's door frame.

In a red dress.

* * *

Shawn's resolve to let the ring issue go melted halfway down the hallway and he doubled back to his apartment under the pretext of needing to pee. Margot sighed deeply as they turned around.

"You can go hold a cab, I'll be really quick," Shawn promised.

"No, you  _said_  something so now I have to go too," she groused.

"Is this one of those girl things?"

"Yes. You bastard."

"Are you going to have to wriggle back into that…into the thing?" Shawn asked anxiously. The time and not-looking effort it would take for Margot to re-dress was not going to do anything for Shawn's nerves.

"No. It unsnaps," Margot sighed.

"Unsnaps?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah. At the bottom," She waved vaguely at her crotch level, "It unsnaps."

Shawn very consciously did not consider that as he unlocked the door and waved Margot inside. While she unsnapped things in the bathroom, Shawn fished Topanga's ring box out of Cory's drawer and slipped it in his slacks pocket, swearing to himself that he wasn't going to do anything stupid, but he was finally, actually going to confront Cory about a relationship issue before it exploded in badness.

"Shawn?" Margot called from the bathroom.

"There's more toilet paper under the sink," he called back, remembering the thin roll.

"No, can you hold up my skirt?"

"While you pee?" Shawn demanded incredulously, "Margot, I love you, but I don't love you that much."

"No, while I snap. Apparently it's a two hand operation."

"Are you wearing something under your…your thing?"

"Man up, Hunter. Just stand behind me, close your eyes and hold the damn skirt."

Shawn rolled his eyes, "Fine. Incoming."

"Damn, this is a lot of skirt," He sighed standing behind her, wrapping his arms around her and grabbing the front of the hem. It was like covering both of them in a cloud of blue frill.

"I know it's silly, but I never ever get to dress up. For anything. Ever. I went overboard. It's a girl thing."

"Ahh… the benefits of Cory. Never again will I send people running for the bathroom at the mention of peeing, never again shall I hold up this much skirt."

Margot let loose a little hoot of triumph.

"Successfully snapped?"

"Well yeah, but also- you- you believe that you'll be with Cory! You just said it."

"That's not what I said."

"You said you'd never have to do this because of Cory!" Margot leered, washing her hands.

"That's just the way that we talk, it's the joke," Shawn shrugged, "Topanga once told me that if I didn't learn how to commit to someone that I'd be old and alone except for Cory, who would bring me magazines and pudding."

"You and Cory for—ev—er" Margot singsonged, swinging their linked arms between them, "You and Cory for—ev-er. You and Co-"

"I'm gonna leave you here, Margot, I mean it."

Margot smirked at him and took his hand in hers, "Come on. Take me to the ball."

* * *

"Topanga?" Cory gasped.

"Hi, Cory."

She was a shock to the system. Made up. Coiffed. Dressed up like Cory had never seen her dressed up before. With no plausible reason that Cory could possibly think of for her being here. He nearly reached out to pinch himself.

"Margot invited me," she told him. He felt himself nod. More seemed to be expected.

"Oh," he managed. After another awkward pause he added, "You know Margot?"

"Yeah. She invited me to her Christmas party. I was staying in her building. We've hung out a little."

"Right."

"So… Shawn's not coming?"

"He's coming," Cory replied, a little more harshly than necessary, "He's just a little late. He and Margot are at our apartment. And no way in hell Margot's skipping out on Eric. They'll be here."

"Yeah," Topanga agreed, "They're almost sickeningly perfect aren't they?"

"Yeah."

"Do you wonder if we used to be like that?" Topanga asked. Her voice was steady, her expression was almost curiously detached. But her eyes, unable to meet Cory's, gave away how much she was struggling to not just walk out the door.

"I guess," Cory replied. He was suddenly very aware of how ridiculous he looked, of how the satiny texture of his shirt slid accusingly against his skin, of how tight his jeans were.

"You and Shawn were like that," Topanga told him, the steady in her voice clearly being pushed to the brink, "At the restaurant."

"Topanga-"

The door swung open, and a skinny blond girl in considerably less dress than the weather called for ran through the two of them to the open bathroom door. The sounds of retching followed immediately.

"-Can we go outside and talk about this?" Cory finished.

"Sure."

They dug their coats out of the pile on Eric's bed. Topanga kicked off her high heels and slid them into a pair of Eric's shoes she'd pulled out of his closet. The only sound as they threw on warmer clothes was the continued vomiting from inside Eric's bathroom. Cory pulled the door open for Topanga and shut it quietly behind them.

Topanga crunched through the snow in Eric's giant shoes and leaned against the balcony railing. "I'm so stupid," she said.

"No you're not. I was totally oblivious I was…," Cory trailed off, but pushed forward. He had to be able to say it to her, "…gay.  _How_ could you have known?"

"I wasn't totally oblivious Cory."

It took a second for that to sink in, Cory braced himself against the balcony railing,"When did you know? Eric…" he stammered, "Eric said he always knew."

Topanga sighed, "I guess the first time I wondered was after you kissed Lauren."

Cory scoffed, "Wait, you thought I was gay because I kissed another girl?"

Topanga mimicked his scoff sarcastically, "No. I'd seen you with other girls. That time before we got back together in Florida? You were going through girls like tissues but you were just…  _dating_. Lauren was the only person that I had ever seen you connect with. That's when I realized that I couldn't take it for granted that we were the only people out there for each other. When we broke up after that I started thinking about how you interacted with people. You and Shawn were really intimate. More intimate than we were in some ways. Not to mention that without you around I was actually talking to other people. Rumors were flying that year that you'd… left me for Shawn."

"Apparently Frankie the Enforcer thought Shawn and I were perfect for each other," Cory interjected, trying to lighten the heavy silence.

"Really? Where did you hear that?"

"Harley Keiner told us a couple weeks ago"

"Harley Keiner? When did you see Harley Keiner."

"He umm… interrupted us. At lovers lane. He's a cop now."

"You're kidding."

"I would be less worried about my mother's safety if I was."

Topanga wrapped her coat tighter around herself, "Lover's Lane huh?"

Cory redirected, "So… why did we get back together then… if you thought I was…"

"Because I didn't think that you were... gay" she shrugged, "Until Shawn found out that you'd applied to a school he couldn't get into and you started trying to make each other jealous. That put things in perspective. It was worse than our break up and you'd reacted the same way when he dumped you for Jennifer," Topanga sighed heavily, and Cory nearly reached out to touch her arm, "But, for the most part, it was all stuff that I could overlook. Sure you guys were weirdly close, and Shawn couldn't survive without you, but even if you were a little gay, I didn't think our relationship was going to be threatened by a little crush on your best friend. Especially considering it was Shawn Hunter- Trailer trash Casanova."

"Don't call him that," Cory warned weakly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't really mean it," She said, with subdued sincerity, "Anyway, by the time I started thinking that maybe Shawn's girl hopping had more to do with you than with trying to keep from getting hurt, Angela happened. He had been lonely and then he was determined to be us. I thought the problem had gone away."

"So you weren't sure until this fall? That this would happen?"

"No," Topanga murmured, "I knew I was going to lose you to Shawn when your little brother was sick."

Cory was stricken. Topanga shrugged, her perfectly sculpted curls bounced on her shoulders, "You were going crazy pushing this stupid Valentine's date, way beyond the realm of normal crazy, even  _your_  normal crazy. All you wanted to do was pretend that everything was okay- you wanted me to go back to what I was, you wanted things to be the way there were when we were fourteen, you wanted me to be what I was when I was twelve. And suddenly Shawn appeared, back from his little freak out, not at all what he was at twelve- and everything was okay," She sighed deeply, blowing a plume of fog in front of her, "All that needed to happen for everything to be okay- all that you needed as a constant in your life-all you needed to give up on your fight with me, was for Shawn to be with you."

"That was before we got married," Cory stammered, blown away, " _Way_  before we got married. Why didn't you-"

"I loved you," She said simply, "And I'd never loved anyone else, and you hadn't either, and it was easy to convince myself that I was wrong. That it would never happen."

"So why didn't you just leave him in Philadelphia? Him moving in with us was your idea!" Cory heard the sound of his voice and changed his tone, he had no right to be accusing, "Wouldn't it have been-"

"There was an off chance that he'd realize he had two years of school left at Pennbrooke instead of running off after you without a plan," Topanga sighed, "I wasn't banking on it, but it could have happened. And the plan for him and Eric to move somewhere was the next best thing. Me and my husband, building a life together. Shawn and Eric off, being single, in another part of the city. I couldn't just take him away from you," she sighed, and continued, just a little bitterly, "You seemed more likely to figure it out if I took him away from you."

"But you… you asked me to send him away."

"Neither of you had any idea, and you were still… I was  _still_  losing you."

"Topanga I am so-"

"-So I played my last card. I asked you to send him away. You were either going do it, and we could try to recover, or…" she heaved out a breath, "You were going to start fucking him and we were going to wind up on this balcony… waiting for him to come and take you away from me," she cleared her throat, "The shiny purple shirt wasn't part of the plan."

Cory barked out an uncomfortable laugh.

"How did it happen?"

"Topanga, you don't want-"

"How. Did. It. Happen?"

"He kissed me," Cory said quietly. Topanga looked at him expectantly.

"He came to get me after I spent the night in detox. He left Margot with me all day, she told me that she liked him, but she knew he didn't like her back and it wouldn't ever come to anything. When he came home I tried to convince him to take a chance on her. He wouldn't listen and went to bed. And I stayed up. Replayed the whole conversation and let myself figure it out. Why you had.. said the things you said. Why I felt… how I'd always felt… and I was completely horrified. More horrified when I realized that going to bed- lying there with him, was going to make me feel less afraid. So I did. And I was. I fell asleep and when I woke up…" Cory swept his hand out in front of him in a "you know" gesture. Topanga's eyes didn't leave his face.

"What, Cory?"

"When I woke up… he was in my arms, and he was kissing me, and I wanted to kiss him back."

Neither of them spoke for a while. They watched the traffic on the street. Cory felt snowflakes melting on his neck and dripping down under his collar. Topanga leaned over the railing, still as a sculpture.

"This is my fault, Topanga. You have no idea how much I wish I hadn't hurt you. How much I miss you. How much I wish I could stand here and say- well, with Shawn out of the way, I've got an opening for a new best friend," Cory wiped the melting snow off of his neck, "'Cause I've got to tell you that without you around, I'm not doing all that great. I lied to my parents about being with Shawn, then brought him home, hurting everyone as much as I possibly could have. I yelled at my co-workers, I'm supposed to call my parents back, but I'm probably not going to because Shawn tried to jump my bones in the middle of the conversation, and now I'm afraid to call them, and then right after that I proceeded to scare Shawn again, and then he took off this morning, which I know is a bad sign, bad enough that I'm actually a little worried that he's not going to show up now."

Topanga looked at him appraisingly and closed the distance between them. She wrapped one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders, and set her head against his chest. It was a stunned second before he responded.

"I can't do that, Cory," she told him.

"I care about you, Topanga. We were friends. We were friends for years before we were together," Cory said, "We've been friends since we were eleven! You remember? My hair was all weird, and you pushed me against that locker and… you gave me my first kiss, Topanga, you changed me, Come on, that's a bond!"

"I remember," Topanga murmured and pulled away, he let go of her reluctantly and she placed her hands on his chest, "But it was recently pointed out to me that… maybe that bond made it too easy for us to get lost in each other instead of forging on independently. Made you think you loved me and made me want to love you. Maybe that bond should be-"

Cory looked like she'd hit him, "-Topanga I  _did_  love you. And I  _do_  miss you, and-"

"Shhh," Topanga put a finger to his lips, "I think that bond should be broken."

"Why?"

"Because I still love you," She said, her voice straining, "And I can't watch you love someone else."

"So… so what do you want me to do?" Cory asked.

"Kiss me goodbye," she whispered, "I didn't change you, I let you change me. I kissed you at those lockers, you kissed me that Halloween when you thought you were a werewolf, and we never even talked about it. When Shawn kissed you it changed your whole life. Kiss me goodbye, Cory. Change me back."

Cory pulled one of her hands from his shoulder to his neck, and set his hands at her waist. She lifted her face to his, and neither closed their eyes until their lips met.

* * *

"Need a hand?" Shawn asked with mock condescension as Margot struggled to get out of the cab by herself. She looked up at him with cautiously concealed defeat.

"Maybe a little," she admitted. Shawn carefully but less than gracefully pulled her out of the cab and set her on the sidewalk.

"Do you need me to carry your train or something?"

"Not unless you're practicing to be my bridesmaid already," she shot back as they walked up to intricately latticed front door. Margot punched a code into a discreet chrome box under the door knob, "But, lest we forget- you won't have to worry about it because-" she took a deep breath that boded ill, "You and Cory for—ev—er, you and Cory for—ev—er."

She did this all the way to the elevator, until Shawn finally interrupted with "Can I have a cigarette?"

"No. You don't need one, things are fine. You two didn't even fight," Margot said reasonably, "Besides, if I piss off Cory, who'll bring me pudding?"

"Eric."

"Apparently Eric cannot be trusted with sweets."

"Fine," Shawn sighed, "So, how long are you and Eric going to play hostess before you disappear upstairs to his room the size of a basketball court to try that thing you made me explain three times?"

"Dude," Margot told him seriously as the doors dinged open, "My lingerie  _unsnaps_  in the  _crotch_."

"So I should just say goodnight and thanks for inviting me right now?" as they walked directly into Eric's apartment from the elevator. Shawn took in the decadently decorated apartment, the lavishly set buffet table running from where they stood to most of the way across the apartment and the opulently dressed guests with more aplomb than Cory had.

"Your boyfriend must have spent his past lives feeding the poor and rescuing puppies," he sighed.

"Well duh," Margot grinned, "He got me didn't he?"

"Yeah he did," Eric announced, appearing around the corner with a neon orange glass in his hand. He kissed Margot sweetly, "You know you completely light up a room when you walk into it, right?"

Shawn grabbed a plate off the table and started filling it up with fussy little appetizers to keep himself from gagging. He hoped Margot and Eric's honeymoon stage lost its shine soon, they were threatening to become impossible to be around.

"You know you taste like lime and mint, right?"

Eric pointed to his glass in explanation, "Mo-ji-to."

"How many of those have you had?"

"Four. But I've been spreading them out. Okay, maybe not the last two," Eric admitted. Margot put her hand to his chest and beckoned him down her other hand. She whispered something in his ear. Shawn had a pretty clear idea of what it was. Eric's eyes widened and he straightened up, thrusting his drink into Shawn's hand, "Here, take this."

Shawn took the glass from Eric's hand and took a deep drink of it, "Where's Cory?"

"Dolce and Gabanna have shamed him into hiding," Eric said.

"Is this Shawn?" Andy asked, inserting himself into the conversation.

"Yeah. Hi," Shawn said, shaking his hand.

"Ahh… the boyfriend. In a nice heterosexual white I see," Andy took in the shirt under Shawn's arm, "And bearing masculine clothes."

"Wait, who are you?" Shawn asked.

"This is my roommate Andy" Eric sighed, "He's in mood, just ignore him."

"Can do," Shawn said, "So where is Cory hiding again?"

"He's in my room upstairs," Eric pointed, but Margot was distracting him and Shawn was losing his interest.

Shawn rolled his eyes and started for the stairs.

"If you can clear him out of there after you straighten him out I'll have all the shrimp puffs put on ice for you," Eric said, kissing Margot again.

"I'll see what I can do," Shawn told him, popping an appetizer into his mouth and heading for the stairs. He could feel Topanga's wedding ring bouncing against his thigh with every step. They might be lovers now, but Cory was still his best friend. He was sure that Cory had an explanation, he was sure that he was overreacting, and he was sort of proud of himself for not freaking out. He hadn't taken off after last night, he had come here. He had found the ring and still come here and he was going upstairs to have a perfectly reasonable discussion. He was in a grown up relationship now.

He pulled open Eric's door and looked around his room. It was slightly smaller than a basket ball court. The bathroom door was closed. Shawn walked over and knocked on it. There was no response. He cracked the door open, "Baby? It's me. I brought you a shirt."

No response. Shawn walked into the bathroom. Some girl was lying on the floor with her arm over her eyes.

"Uhh… Ma'am? Are you… breathing?" Shawn asked. When she didn't reply he nudged her gently with his toe. She groaned, lurched up and barely avoided missing the toilet.

"Sorry, sorry," Shawn backed out, closed the door and leaned against it, trying to figure out where Cory could have gone.

Then he saw him. On the balcony.

* * *

She was softer than he remembered, she yielded into his hands where Shawn was solid against them. Her skin was smooth against his bare face and she smelled like talc and rose. He wondered what Shawn's stubble would feel like against his skin now that he was clean shaven. This kiss was getting away from him, he pushed Topanga gently.

"Topanga-"

"I know," she whispered, "This is all I was asking you for."

"I don't want it to be like this."

Topanga ran a hand along his cheek, "This is how it is."

"So, what, we're just never going to talk again? We're going to live in the same city, have the same friends, and never talk to each other again?"

"I'm going to say goodnight, and go home. I'm spending the semester at NYU, I'll find a new direction, make new friends, and then I'm transferring."

"To where?"

"Wherever I want."

"Can I get you a drink before you go home?"

"It's not a good idea for us to have a drink together, Cory," Topanga sighed, she shuffled her feet a little, "I'm cold. I'm going inside."

When she titled her head back up to look at him he was kissing her again. She let him, and he stopped after a moment.

"Goodbye, Topanga Lawrence."

"Goodbye, Cory Matthews."

They went back inside. Topanga replaced Eric's shoes in his closet and they exchanged one last look before Margot burst into the room.

"Cory-Cory-Cory-" She yelled, "Shawn just ran downstairs, shoved this in my hand," she waved the cream colored ring box in his face and put it in his outstretched hand, "told me that you'd be needing it and took off."

"He found this?" Cory demanded, staring at the box.

"Cory- he saw us!" Topanga said.

"Shit," Cory yelled. He jammed the box in his pocket and took off down the stairs, coat still in his hand, cursing himself for being an idiotic sentimentalist who couldn't find a decent hiding place and hating himself for how easy it seemed to be for him to hurt the people he loved.


	19. Holes in the Bookshelf

Shawn walks to the kitchen in his bathrobe. Plaid. Worn, but clean. A little ratty at the edges. He needs a new one, but this one's still serviceable enough that he hasn't bothered yet. He rubs his eyes, turns on the coffee pot and sits down at the counter, flipping open his laptop as he does. It's red. Shawn likes red. He checks his email. Smiles at some good news. The coffee finishes pouring and Shawn gets back up. He pulls a mug down from the cupboard, spoons some sugar into it and pours himself a cup of coffee. As he does, Cory comes up behind him in his own pajamas, wraps an arm around his stomach, kisses him behind the ear, and Shawn says, "Good Morning."

It's a simple fantasy. Verging on boring. It could easily be a description of most mornings in the last few months. Well, almost. Shawn doesn't have a red lap top. Or a bathrobe. But the real indication that it's just a fantasy is the peppering of gray in Shawn's hair. The hint of crow's feet around his eyes. The beginnings of smile lines around his mouth.

It's a simple, boring fantasy. And Cory had cherished it since he was 15.

And, now, after he had finally admitted to himself that that last part was important, that it was real and not just a result of something he'd eaten or something Topanga had almost let him touch, now that he had finally let himself color in the before… and sometimes the after, of that fantasy, (in which there were no pajamas) he kept fucking things up. He kept pulling the string at the corner of it and letting it unravel in front of his eyes. He'd told Eric  _earlier that night_  that Shawn was sensitive about Topanga, that things were a little tense at that exact moment, that something was going on with Shawn and Cory wasn't one hundred percent sure what it was.

And now Shawn had seen Cory kissing Topanga. And to Shawn it wouldn't be just a kiss. It was a rejection. An emphatic one. A big fat billboard announcing that someone loving him had just been nothing more than a temporary insanity. That letting himself believe someone loved him was a dangerous delusion.

Cory didn't know how to explain to Shawn how much of that conversation, how much of that kiss, had actually been a flogging richly deserved for the fact that Cory had never once fantasized about the gray in Topanga's hair. The lines on her face. His fantasies about Topanga were all in the past-bullshit about fireflies. She'd kissed him looking for closure and he'd kissed her looking for forgiveness and Shawn had gotten hurt. Cory clutched the box in his hand even tighter. It was just Cory's luck that Shawn had found this first. After finding this how was Shawn supposed to believe _anything_  that Cory said to him?

_Fuck._

_Fuck._

_Fuck!_

Cory set his head against his and Shawn's apartment door and tried to catch his breath.

What if Shawn wasn't there?

It was going to be like when Topanga left. Holes in the bookshelf. Rotten food in the fridge. Only so much worse. Book shelves could filled back in, but fantasies weren't so easily rewritten. His hand slipped down to the doorknob and he tried to prepare himself for what he'd see when he opened it.

* * *

It was a simple practiced impulse. A comfortable, familiar action. It never even occurred to Shawn to resist it.

Run.

Running was good. Running was safe. Running kept your mind from tormenting you with replays of things you wished you'd never seen or heard to begin with. It let you deal exclusively with "forward" and let you ignore "behind".

Margot hadn't even slowed him down. She'd appeared in front of him using whatever spidy-sense she'd developed that tipped her off to his freak outs. He'd shoved the ring in her hands, blurted something out, and ducked into the elevator, where, deprived of momentum, he started to shake, but succeeded in fighting it down by the time the elevator doors dinged open downstairs.

He was almost apprehensive of the cab that sat miraculously empty outside Eric's building when he made it out to the street. His body was screaming at him to run the whole way home, about as happy about the thought of sitting still in a cab as a cat would be to climb into a bathtub, but sense won out, he slammed up walls in his head to keep the feelings out, and he got into the cab.

When he got back to his and Cory's building he ran up the stairs and then straight to the bed. He dropped to his knees and dug his duffle bag out from underneath it. He went to the dresser and pulled his sock drawer out so hard that it flew out of the dresser frame and hit him in the chest, the back end dropped down and bashed him in the thigh.

Empty- right-duh. That had been the problem all week.

Shawn dropped the drawer onto the floor and went to the hamper, shoveling as much of it as he could into his bag. Stopping to make sure he had things like socks and underwear and sweaters was not forward momentum, he'd take as much as he could now and sort out necessities when he got where he was going.

Where he was going wasn't really the point either. He wasn't fourteen anymore, he didn't have to sneak down to the trailer park to sell Turner's rum to some 5th grader for triple what it was worth and then borrow the rest from Cory just for a bus ticket. He had money set aside, he a lot of money coming in, he had a fucking credit card. He could actually go to France this time.

_Nothing to stop me this time._

Out to the living room. The bookshelf out there was half full of his little black hardcover notebooks, and half of them were full of things about Cory, and the thought of Cory finding any of them after this, of Topanga seeing any of them, made Shawn sick. He set the duffle bag on the ground in front of the shelf, and swept his arm along the shelf, knocking them into the bag like falling dominoes.

He threw the flap over with a feeling of finality and pulled the zipper.

It wouldn't close.

He rammed the contents of the bag down with all the manic strength he could muster and made another attempt.

No.

He shuffled a few things around and beat it down again, holding the contents in with one hand while he pulled the zipper with the other. He got the bag almost completely zipped before the side seam split. Several notebooks and a pile of what Shawn just now realized had been a pile of Cory's clothes exploded out of the tear.

Before he realized it was happening, Shawn was suddenly bent double, sobbing into the remains of his duffle bag, sucking in great big gulps of air that smelled like Cory as he did. It was too much to fight back down this time and he let it hit him. He was crying so hard it hurt, the wracking sobs throbbing in his chest like he was being crushed under them. He cried his way through the worst of it and eventually lay facedown in the pile of stuff in front of him, breathing like he'd just lost a race, the occasional sob or hiccup resounding painfully in his chest. He felt ruined and cast aside, shredded and thrown to the wind. Red hot licks of anger started creeping into his spent body.

Then the front door opened.

* * *

Cory's deep breath on the other side of the door hadn't prepared him for this. Shawn looked like he'd been hit by a train. His hair arched out in crazy spikes from where he'd raked his hands agitatedly through it and the wax had made it hold. His whole body was shaking. When he lifted his face it was red and bloated with tears, his nose running, eyes bloodshot.

"Shawnie, I am so sorry, I-"

"Stop."

"swear I didn't mean to-"

"Don't."

"hurt you- it's not what you think-"

THWAACCKKKK!

A book had whizzed past Cory's head, and hit the ajar bedroom door behind him. There was another THUD as the door swung open and beat into the wall behind it.

"Get out," Shawn growled as he stumbled to his feet, armed with another notebook, "Whatever this is, whatever you came here to say- fuck it. Fuck  _you_. Get  _out_."

"I'm not going to leave."

Shawn's bitter laugh at that sent a chill down Cory's spine, "Yes you are.  _Everyone else has_. Now get OUT."

Cory felt his own tears start, "Shawn, please- she asked me to, she needed-" Another book, another miss, another distant thwack from the bedroom, "She asked me to kiss her goodbye! She asked me for the one thing she needed to  _get me out of her life_ , and I gave it to her."

"Oh yeah- I believe you," Shawn spat, "After everything you've lied about and seeing you out there, holding her, kissing her, and what I found in your sock drawer, why shouldn't I believe you?" Shawn swiped his swimming eyes clear and turned around, heading into the kitchen, Cory followed.

"I swear to god, Shawn, it's you. It's only you, it's always been you, and I don't want it to ever be anyone else. I love you."

Shawn didn't respond, he just threw open the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a wad of paper bags.

"I love you," Cory repeated. Shawn pushed past him and headed back to his duffle bag, where he started shoveling notebooks into one of the bags.

"I lov-"

"Shawn's dating Margot, Shawn's just my roommate, Oh yeah, I told my parents about us, it's fine," Shawn sneered from the floor, "Kissing Topanga doesn't mean anything- it's only you Sha-"

Cory banged his fist onto the kitchen counter, and Shawn shuddered at the crash, "Godammit Shawn- Just because I didn't start out  _as fucked up as you_ , doesn't mean this whole thing hasn't been hard on me too!"

Shawn stopped packing and stared at him, his wide eyes looking even redder than they had before.

"I  _AM_ in love with you," Cory said again, he left a very small pause at the end of it, as though challenging Shawn to look away or interrupt again, "And I had to realize it without my parent's help, without Feeny's advice, without Topanga's support and  _without my best friend_. Okay- do you get that?" Cory bashed his fist into the counter again, "I've been going through this whole relationship without that network and I have  _royally fucked it up_  more than once, but I've never had to do something like this on my own before- I can't ask you for advice on how to deal with yourself all the time, and it  _destroys me_  to hurt you, but you're a fucking open wound sometimes, and I've got too many broken windows on my side of things to tread on glass around you  _every fucking minute_."

Shawn raked a hand through his hair, the spikes stood up straighter, "If you can't come to me for support and advice and help- then why are we even together-"

Cory slapped his palm to his forehead- "That's exactly what I'm talking about Shawn! You know  _that_  is not what I meant. I  _can_  go to Shawn- my lover- for all those things- but going to my  _best friend_  about  _my lover_  Shawn? Pretty much off the table. You've got Margot- I've got me. "Me" is not good at this."

Shawn got back to his feet, "Whenever I've _thought_  I was going to my best friend now lover about things- he's been lying to me."

"That is not fair Shawn- I do not lie to you about everything."

"How am I supposed to believe that after tonight? How am I supposed to believe that you don't still want to be with Topanga? How?" Shawn demanded, arms spread wide and helpless.

"Because I am in love with you!" Cory screamed, "I've spent the last few months in bed with you figuring out that I'm gay. I told my parents I'm in love with you. I told _Topanga_  I'm in love with you. I made an announcement about sucking your cock in front of all my coworkers," Cory shouted the last one with a look of bewilderment that he actually had done that one and closed his eyes bracingly for the last one, "I've been having dreams about you making love to me since we were eighteen."

"Eighteen?" Shawn demanded.

"You and Angela had finally slept together, I overheard her and Topanga talking about you," He put his hand to his forehead again, "I dreamt about you every night for two weeks straight."

Shawn stared open mouthed at him for a second, then pressed his mouth into a thin, cruel line "I didn't sleep with you last night because I don't trust you." Then he turned around and stalked into their bedroom, bags in hand.

"Is that supposed to be some big slap in the face, Shawn?" Cory demanded, following after him, "I know you- you are a betrayal addict. Yeah- bad things happen to you, yeah- people have left you, but you pull malice out of thin air and use it to keep people at a distance. But only after you've let them close enough to be able to hurt you," Shawn ignored him, put the paper bag on the bed and started gathering notebooks from around the room, and Cory kept going.

"Like when you found out that Turner hadn't signed the adoption papers and completely flipped shit. Or when you made yourself fall completely in love with a fucking purse- which damn near guaranteed you heartache," Shawn walked toward the door and Cory jump in front of him, "Of course you're going to say you don't trust me- you don't want to admit you trust anyone until after they've already hurt you."

"Get out of my way, Cory."

"I'm not letting you leave!" Cory seized the bag in his hands and pulled it away from him, "I'm not letting you take off again so you don't have to deal with the fact that someone loves you. That you should trust me."

"The hell you aren't!" Shawn yelled back, pulling the bag away from Cory. It split down the middle dumping its contents back onto the floor. Shawn shoved Cory as hard as he could, Cory grabbed his arms and didn't let go.

"I'm not letting you leave!" He yelled again. Unable to struggle out of his grip, Shawn launched himself into Cory and suddenly they were scuffling on the floor like high schoolers. Just like the only other time they'd been angry enough with each other to fight like these and had to be pulled apart in the hallway.

"Talk to me!" Cory yelled.

"Let me go!" Shawn yelled back, his legs were straddled over Cory and he was on his feet, pushing back with his legs as hard as he could, trying to wrench out of Cory's grip.

"No! I won't let you leave!"

Shawn tore himself out of Cory's hands and tumbled backward onto the floor behind him, hitting his head on the base of the nightstand as he did. Cory was on him in a flash, pinning Shawn's wrists to the ground above his head, Shawn's body to the floor with his own.

"You're not leaving!" Cory panted again.

"Get off me!" Shawn heaved against Cory, barely managing to get his wrists an inch off the ground before Cory slammed them back down, "Get off! Get off!"

"I love you. Not Topanga, not anyone else- just you," Cory said, Shawn struggled against him, getting even less far off the floor before being pushed back onto it again. He half-heartedly tried to pull his arms out of Cory's grip again, failed, and gave up, too exhausted to try and throw Cory off him anymore when he knew from much more pleasant experience that if Cory didn't get off of him, there was nothing he could do to make him.

"It's always been you. And it's always going to be you," Cory was crying. Shawn was crying again. Cory's grip on Shawn's wrists loosened, he was just holding him now, softly, like he might have been holding his hands. Shawn lay boneless and defeated underneath him.

"I didn't know Topanga was going to be there," Cory whispered tearfully, "She wanted to talk- I wanted to apologize. I  _am_  sorry that I hurt her, and I needed her to know. She said that the whole time we were together we were lost. When we were young, she kissed me a bunch of times without it ever mattering and then we just let ourselves get thrown together. She asked me to kiss her goodbye and I wan- I owed it to her to help her. I paid a debt. When I kissed you, the whole world changed."

Cory took his hands away from Shawn's wrists and used them to prop his body up. He patted down Shawn's wild hair, stroking him like he was trying to comfort a whining dog. Shawn felt something hard move against his hip as Cory shifted on top of him and his own body treacherously responded.

Cory leaned down and set a kiss against Shawn's forehead. Shawn blinked and the tears ran down his raw face onto the floor under him. Cory kissed along the trail it had left before pressing an exploratory, penitent kiss to Shawn's lips. Shawn let him. Cold tears mixed between their faces as Shawn opened the kiss, gently urging Cory's lips apart.

Shawn felt like he'd had his heart torn out of his body and set on fire, like he'd spent all of the time since he'd run out of Eric's apartment watching it slowly burn down to embers, and now he was lying in its ashes. He was tired like he'd never been before, hurt like he'd been too many times. He knew this was only going to be a respite but he  _needed_  it. There were no happy endings for Shawn Hunter, but he could have this. Weeks from now, Months from now, when this all fell apart- Shawn was going to dust this memory off and take just this with him.

Shawn lifted his arms off of the floor above his head and set his hands at Cory's shoulders, Cory caught one hand gently and brought Shawn's wrist to his mouth, kissing it.

"God, please tell me I didn't hurt you," Cory sniffed, "Your wrists are all red."

"It doesn't matter," Shawn answered throatily.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore," Cory choked, pulling the other wrist to his lips and kissing it too.

"It doesn't matter," he repeated lifting his mouth to Cory's.  _Because you will._

Cory let go of Shawn's wrists and Shawn set both hands behind Cory's head, pressed his body up into Cory's and slid his hands over the silky shirt, pulling Cory tighter against him, rubbing their bodies together harder, faster. Cory slid his arm underneath Shawn with a little moan and rolled over, pulling Shawn on top of him, clasping his hands to Shawn's sides. Shawn spread his legs, straddling Cory's hips and digging one of his arms underneath Cory's shoulder. He slid one of his legs down and dug his toe into the carpet, giving himself some leverage to rock his hips into Cory's. Cory broke the kiss and buried his face in Shawn's neck.

"Iloveyou," he panted, "I'llalwaysloveyou."

Shawn pulled away and started unbuttoning Cory's shirt, Cory began to help him and Shawn swept his hand away.

"No." Shawn said. Cory dropped his hands down to Shawn's knees, laying still and breathing heavily as he watched Shawn unbutton his shirt and pull it open. As Shawn pulled off his own shirt Cory surged up to kiss him, wrapping his arms tight around Shawn, like he'd been doing every night, trying to assure him he was safe…but it wasn't going to work tonight.

Shawn set his hands against Cory's shoulders and pushed him back, not hard enough to move him, Cory broke the kiss and looked at him in confusion. Shawn pushed him again, gently. Cory lay slowly back onto the floor watching for approval, which Shawn gave him with a little nod. Then Shawn leaned over the nightstand, pulled the drawer open and lifted the KY out of it. Cory started stroking his hands over Shawn's knees, up the top of his thighs and back down. Shawn set the lube on Cory's stomach and pressed down into Cory again, squeezing the chilly tube between them. Cory moaned and clenched Shawn's knees hard.

"I love you too," Shawn sighed. God help him he did, "So much."

Shawn pulled back again, and shifted down over Cory's legs, watching Cory's face as he ran a hand down his chest, down his stomach and over Cory's… two erections.

"What the…" Shawn looked down. There was something in Cory's pocket.

Something square, probably not contributing to the way Cory had been rocking against Shawn.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Cory stammered, "Shawn? What is it?"

Shawn dug his hand into Cory's pocket, and pulled the box out. Cream colored. M on the top. Scorch mark.

"Shawn?" Cory asked.

"Fuck," Shawn said. He got clumsily to his feet and dropped the box onto Cory's stomach where it bounced off the lube and fell onto the floor.

"No, no, no," he muttered, wrapping his arms around himself. What the hell had he been thinking?

"Shawn?" Cory sat up, grabbing the box off the floor and getting to his feet, "Shawn, it's okay."

"Forget it- no. Get out."

Cory stared at him, "We covered that- No way in hell," He went to the dresser, noticed, for the first time, the empty drawer lying on the floor next to it, pulled out the bottom drawer and dropped the box in it, kicking it shut, "There. Gone. Don't worry about it," he said gently, raising his hands as though to make sure Shawn could see he wasn't holding anything else.

"Don't worry about it?" Shawn bellowed, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Cory shot back.

"You kept Topanga's wedding ring!" Shawn shrieked, "You said  _all these things_  to me, we did all these things with it in  _our bedroom_ , you kissed her, and now you've got it in your pocket when I'm  _touching_  you. That's what's  _fucking wrong with me_!" Shawn was shaking angry again, completely wrung out, too tired to fight again, too angry not to. He felt sick to his stomach. Cory just kept staring at him.

"Get out," Shawn repeated hoarsely.

"You didn't open the box," Cory said, stunned.

"What?"

"You didn't open the box."

"I know what it is!" Shawn yelled.

Cory opened the drawer back up, pulled the box back out of it and strode across the room to Shawn.

"I should have known. It's you and me, there was no way this was going to be a perfect moment," Cory sighed flicking the box open and holding out in front of Shawn.

"Shawn Hunter, will you marry me?"

Two white gold bands that Shawn had never seen before were nestled together inside the box. He stared at them dumbfounded.

"What?"

"Will you marry me?"

"When did you…"

"The day you first kissed me," Cory answered, "You were asleep when I got out of the shower, I slipped Topanga's ring into my pocket before I left and I pawned it on my way to work and bought these on the way home," Cory answered.

"But… all I did was kiss you. We were… things were all…you lied about telling your parents, you wouldn't let me touch you, you.."

"I told you- it's you. It's always been you," Cory bounced his arm on every word for emphasis, "And it hasn't been a piece of cake to adjust to that, but that doesn't mean it's not true. This is shaping up to be pretty much the worst day of my life, Shawnie, and you know what I want to do on it?"

Shawn pulled his eyes away from the rings and looked at Cory.

"Be with you. And tomorrow, if a magic genie floats through the window and gives me all the money in the world and hair that actually moves and and crowns me King of England -I'm gonna want to be with you."

Shawn's mouth had gone dry, "And if I'm an abandonment issue ridden, jealous, melodramatic, sociopath?" Shawn asked.

"Hasn't bothered me for the last twenty years, don't see it becoming an issue in the next eighty," Cory said with a weak smile.

"A hundred-year-old abandonment issue ridden, jealous, melodramatic sociopath isn't going to bother you?"

"When we're a hundred, I think I'll have just finished making today up to you," Cory sighed, wrapping his free arm around Shawn and pulling him into a hug, still holding the rings between them with his other hand, "And I will knock "abandonment-issue ridden" off that list if it's the last thing I do."

"Cory, I'm so sorry," Shawn said, a sob popping out of him again, Cory squeezed him tighter, "I made this the worst day of your life."

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things to you, I shouldn't have hurt you, I shouldn't have kissed Topanga," Cory sighed, "I should have just bought the ugly box the jewelry counter guy offered me," he tapped the rings against Shawn's chest, and Shawn let out a sound that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh, "I'm so sorry."

Shawn buried his face in Cory's shoulder, Cory held him.

"Shawnie?"

"Yeah."

"I… I asked you a question, back there… remember?"

Shawn lifted his face to Cory's and kissed him.

"Is that a yes?" Cory asked.

"No."

Cory stepped back.

"Dammit, Shawn."

But Shawn was smiling at him. A teary, puffy eyed smile, but a smile, "Well, we can't have a wedding, so you putting this ring on my finger's going to be more of a marriage than an engagement, right?"

Cory nodded, "That was sort of the idea behind getting two rings."

"I think, you especially, should take advantage of this last chance to try out that premarital sex," Shawn said.

Cory laughed and cupped Shawn's face in his hands. He kissed his forehead again, closed the box and set it on top of the bookshelf by the door.

"I'll say yes right afterward," Shawn promised.

"Come here."

He pulled Shawn into his arms and they kissed, then walked back to the bed over the carnage of the night. Toppled drawers, notebooks still lying spread open where they'd landed, piles of dirty clothes. Cory picked the tube of KY up off the floor before he lay back on the bed and Shawn took it from him, set it on top of the nightstand and settled on top of him.

They were exhausted, bruised, and desperate to run past that last threshold together, stick a flag in the country far beyond it and fight anything that tried to take it from them. Cory couldn't believe that he was holding Shawn like this when not ten minutes ago he'd been screaming at him and slamming him into the floor.

Shawn pulled away and started fumbling with the fly on Cory's jeans. Cory reached up to help him and Shawn caught his hands and looked up into his eyes. Again, Cory dropped his hands and let Shawn take control- anything Shawn wanted, Cory was happy to give him. He just wanted Shawn to figure that out. He never wanted to hurt him again, and he wanted to make up for every single hurt of the past.

Shawn couldn't believe Cory had meant it all. Cory was right, Shawn  _was_  fucked up, a fairy-tale ending didn't mean much to him, but he could recognize passion, he could recognize instinct. His had been to run, Cory's had been to stop him, and true feeling had brought on a fight that had laid them both bare. He worried what a shrink might say about it- but Shawn could believe in instinct that strong. And Cory's was, apparently, to keep him around.

Shawn finished undressing both of them, Cory lay still and watched. Shawn settled back onto his haunches next to Cory, and started stroking his naked cock. Cory left his wrists on the bed, but wasn't quite able to keep his hips from rocking up into Shawn's hand. Shawn reached for the KY and popped the lid open.

"Do you know how to-" Cory started.

"I googled things months ago, Cor," Shawn said quietly. Cory smiled at him, and brought his knees up a little. Shawn squeezed a dollop out into his palm, warming it between his hands before coating his fingers and reaching between Cory's thighs. Shawn slid a finger carefully into Cory, and repositioned, lying against Cory so that he could work his finger inside of Cory and kiss him at the same time. He slid a second finger in and Cory started working back against his hand, stars bursting unexpectedly against his eyes when Shawn suddenly crooked his fingers.

"You okay?" Shawn asked when Cory gasped sharply.

"Yes,yes, god, do that again."

Shawn obliged and Cory clenched his eyes shut.

"More?"

"Please," Cory said, thinking that he'd wished he'd known that Shawn could do that, would have made the fantasies a lot more interesting.

Then Shawn slid in a third finger, and did it again. Cory gave up thinking for moaning and Shawn gave up talking for kissing. Then Shawn slowly extracted his fingers, squeezed a little more lube into his hand, and used it to slick himself. He looked around confusedly for a second, then grabbed a Kleenex from the nightstand and used it to wipe his hand clean, Cory laughed.

"I love you so much," Cory panted as Shawn adjusted his position on top of him, aligning their bodies. Shawn grabbed one of Cory's hands from his side and slid it up over Cory's head, lacing their fingers together.

"I know," he said, "I love you too."

Slowly, steadily, he pushed himself inside. Cory cried out, gripping the fingers of Shawn's hand tighter and throwing his other arm up around Shawn's waist, Shawn fought not to come then and there.

This had been a night from hell, and now Shawn felt like Sysiphus, reaching the top of the hill with his boulder and finally being able to find peace after an eternity. He thrust into Cory again, eliciting another cry and began seeking a rhythm, which he quickly settled into, Cory giving a punctuating moan as every thrust hit up inside of him. Shawn let go of Cory's hand and braced himself more steadily, allowing himself to stroke Cory's cock as he thrust.

Shawn could feel the result of every single thing he did to Cory, his every motion echoed back into him from Cory's body. Cory's muscles clenching around his cock, Cory's fingers digging into his back, and he concentrated on just that, just the reaction as he tried to get Cory to come before he did. His whole body was primed, had been ready to pop at the first feeling of Cory around him. God, he wasn't going to make it.

A sudden hot splash against his stomach pushed him over and he shuddered, thrust in as deep as he could, and came hard before collapsing on top of Cory, and nestling into his shoulder as much as he was able with his cock still inside him. Cory stroked his hands down Shawn's back until, reluctantly, Shawn pulled out and they lay on their sides, stomach to stomach.

Cory kissed Shawn, "So that's premarital sex huh?" he sighed.

"Mmhmm," Shawn replied, warm and sated and mostly asleep already. "You're not getting into heaven now."

Cory pressed all the closer he could get to Shawn and whispered, "I'm already there."

Shawn was about to complain about Cory being cheesy, but fell asleep before he managed it.

* * *

When they woke in the morning they were still stomach to stomach, arms around each other.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Cory moved to sit up, then realized he didn't actually want to. He moved his fingers lazily against Shawn's back.

"You never got around to saying yes last night," Cory said.

"Oh," Shawn responded. The sleepy pause lengthened and Shawn began to shift around, trying to move stiff muscles. Cory let him go and sat up.

"Well… I'm waiting," Cory laughed.

"Maybe I shouldn't say it yet," Shawn teased, "Maybe we could hold out for that perfect moment still."

Cory tugged Shawn's arm and Shawn settled up against his chest.

"We did have a couple before this."

"Mmmm," Shawn agreed.

"You know why I think that was?"

"Why?"

"Because I fell in love with my best friend."

"Me too," Shawn said.

"So let's knock out that best friend/ love wall okay?" Cory said, wrapping an arm around Shawn's stomach, "Tell me something you'd tell me as your best friend, but not as your lover."

"Umm… okay," Shawn thought for a second, "Alright, I've got one, I spent all day yesterday, watching Margot change in and out of dresses, and I totally checked her out."

"I thought Eric's friend Carlisle was really cute," Cory offered, "Does that bother you?"

Shawn shook his head, his waxy hair brushing weirdly against Cory's bare chest as it did, "No."

"We should call them and tell them we're okay," Shawn said, "They'll be worried."

"Yeah. We will," Cory said, "Okay, I've got another one."

"Okay."

"That finger thing you did last night might be the hottest thing anyone's ever done to me."

Shawn snorted, "Yeah, figuring that one out is the reason Rosa Peresta decided to institute Four Blow Job Friday."

Cory laughed, "This is nice. I miss this."

"Yeah," Shawn agreed.

"Are you going to say yes now?"

Shawn turned around to face him, wide smile on his face, "Go get it."

Cory dashed carefully across the formerly clean room, took the rings out of the box, dumped them into his palm and chucked the box out into the living room. Shawn threw the covers over him as he climbed back into bed.

"Shawn Hunter- will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Cory slid one of the rings onto Shawn's finger, and handed him the other. Shawn slid it onto his finger and Cory interlaced their hands so that the rings touched and kissed him.

"How do you feel now?" Cory asked. Shawn took a deep breath, and closed his fingers tighter around Cory's.

"Safe."

* * *


End file.
